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THE    ETERNAL    RELIGION. 


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THE 

Eternal  Religion 


BY 

J.    BRIERLEY,    B.A. 

>'  (  "J.  B.»' ) 

AutUr  of"  The  Common  Life,"  "  Ourselves  and  the  Universe,"  Ac,  ie. 


^etB  garit: 
THOMAS    WHITTAKER,    2   &  3,   BIBLE    HOUSE. 


M0FFHX 


Preface. 

Amid  the  seeming  confusions  of  our  timer 
there  is,  amongst  leading  minds,  growing  into 
ever  clearer  vision  the  main  lines  of  the 
structure  which,  when  fully  in  view,  will  be 
recognised  by  humanity  as  the  Eternal  Religion* 
The  earlier  theologies  were  advance  sketches 
which,  we  are  now  coming  to  see,  were  not 
only  incomplete  but,  in  important  respects, 
were  wrongly  drawn.  We  are  better  equipped 
to-day  than  the  older  framers  of  systems.  We 
are  in  a  more  favourable  position  for  discerning 
between  the  evanescent  and  the  permanent, 
between  what  are  essentials  and  what  are 
matters  of  detail. 

It  is  the  peculiar  privilege  of  our  age  to 
have  come  into  possession  at  once  of  the 
entire  heritage  of  the  past  centuries,  with  their 
vast  endeavours  after  ultimate  truth,  and  at 
the  same  time  of  a  scientific  method  for 
assaying  their  results.  In  what  I  have  here 
advanced  I  have  tried  to  utilise  the  advantages 
of  that  position.  I  have  kept  always  before 
me  the  idea  of  reHgion  as  at  once  a  principle 
and  a  history.     Its  story,  properly  considered, 


144458 


VI 


Preface. 


is  that  of  eternal  ideas  expressed,  with  varying 
degrees  of  clearness,  in  historical  personaUties. 
The  progress  both  of  the  ideas  and  of  the 
personalities  has,  it  is  here  maintained,  reached, 
so  far,  its  highest  term  in  Christianity,  which  is 
accordingly  here  treated  as  the  Eternal 
Religion.  In  the  exposition  of  it  under  this 
view  I  have  tried  first  to  prepare  the  ground 
by  the  exhibition  of  certain  principles,  the 
proper  apprehension  of  which  seems  essential  to 
a  grasp  of  the  theme  as  a  whole.  Following 
this  I  have  dealt  with  some  of  the  leading 
positions  of  Christianity,  with  a  statement  of 
the  grounds  on  which  its  claim  rests  for 
validity  and  permanence.  The  succeeding 
chapters  offer  appHcations  of  religion,  as  thus 
expounded,  to  some  of  the  more  prominent 
phases  of  present-day  life. 

While  dealing  with  the  final  religion,  the 
book,  I  need  hardly  say,  lays  no  claim  itself 
to  finality.  It  is  the  barest  of  sketches.  It 
merely  suggests  the  roads  along  which  the 
thought  of  the  future  seems  likely  to  travel. 
Its  purpose  will  be  fully  served  if  it  help  in  any 
humble  degree  to  a  better  apprehension  of 
those  great  facts,  and  of  those  spiritual  forces 
upon  which  the  humanity,  both  of  to-day  and 
of  to-morrow,  must  sustain  its  inward  life. 

J.  B. 

London, 

August,  1905. 


Contents. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — The  Etebnal  Revelation  .        .  1 

II.— Doctrine  and  Experience.        .  10 

in.— The  Eternal  Commerce      .        .  18 

IV.— Life  as  Symbol           ,        .        •  27 

v.— The  War  of  Good  with  Good     .  36 

VI.— The  Systems,  and  Man       .        .  46 

VII.— The  Eternal  Gospel  ...  65 

VIII.— Calvary 66 

IX.— What  was  the  Resurrection  ?    .  75 

X.— Our  Moral  Habitat   ...  86 

XI.— The  Story  of  Morals         .        .  95 

XII.— On  Human  Perfection        .        .  105 

XIII.— Ethics  of  the  Intellect    .        .114 

XIV.— Wealth  and  Life        .         .        .  123 

^    XV.— A  Layman's  Religion.         .        .  132 

XVI.— Religion  and  Art       .         .         .  141 

XVII. — Nature  the  Preacher        .        .150 

XVIII. — Behind  the  History  .        .        .159 

V  XIX.— Of  Spiritual  Loss      .        .        .168 

XX.— Converts 177 

XXI.— Necessity 186 

XXII.— Faith  as  a  Force       .        •        .  195 

XXIII. — Religious  Imposture  .        •        .  204 

XXIV.— The  Soul's  Emancipation  .        .  214 

XXV.— Recognitions      ....  224 

XXVI.— The  Thought  Behind.        .        .  233 


vm 


Contents. 


OHAPTEB 

XXVII.— Conscience 
XXVirr.— Idle  Piety 

XXIX. — The  Central  Mystery 
XXX. — ^Physical  Righteousness 

XXXI. — Public  Religion 
XXXII. — Religion  and  Ajviusement 
XXXin. — Religious  Epicures     . 
XXXIV.— Last  Things 


PAGE 

243 
251 


277 
286 
295 
304 


The  Eternal  Religion. 


I. 

The   Eternal  Revelation. 

The  late  Auguste  Sabatier,  in  his  essay  on 
**  Religion  and  Modern  Culture,"  describes 
in  powerful  language  the  guK  that  has  opened 
in  Europe  between  science  and  the  Church. 
For  two  hundred  years  the  two  forces  have 
been  in  antagonism.  They  represent  two 
opposing  principles.  The  one  founds  itself 
on  the  freest  inquiry.  The  other  rests  on 
external  authority  ;  an  authority  which  derives 
from  the  past,  which  declares  truth  to  be  an 
affair  of  a  revelation  made  to  men  ages  ago, 
and.  which  is  not  to  be  added  to  nor  taken 
from.  He  gives  the  result  of  the  conflict  in 
the  country  he  knows  best,  his  own  France. 
Irreligion,  he  says,  has  swept  over  it  like  a 
sirocco.  A  later  authority  says  there  are 
to-day  less  than  two  millions  of  practising 
Cathohcs  in  that  population  of  forty  miUions. 


The  Eternal  Religion. 


The  rest  are,  for  the  most  part,  practically 
outside  Christianity. 

The  conflict  here  described  is,  of  course,  not 
confined  to  France.  It  rages  aU  over  the 
civilised  world.  In  England,  where  religion 
is  an  active  interest,  there  have  been  abundant 
attempts  at  compromise,  most  of  them  as 
futile  as  they  were  well-meaning.  Amongst 
Protestants,  where  the  principle  of  authority 
had  been  shifted  from  an  infallible  Church  to 
an  infaUible  Bible,  we  have  seen  endeavour 
after  endeavour,  by  means  of  interpretations 
fearfully  and  wonderfully  made,  to  join 
modern  science  to  ancient  Genesis.  The 
difficulty  here  is  that  to  our  faith  in  the 
Scripture  has  to  be  added  an  equally  implicit 
faith  in  the  interpreters,  an  embarrassing 
business  when  some  half-dozen  of  them,  at 
odds  with  each  other,  claim  at  the  same 
moment  our  allegiance.  The  position  to-day 
amongst  both  rehgious  teachers  and  their 
followers  is,  in  this  matter,  entirely  unsatis- 
factory. They  are  carrying  two  sets  of  ideas 
in  their  minds,  to  each  of  which  they  in  turn 
defer,  but  which  they  are  quite  unable  to 
reconcile.  They  believe  in  science ;  they 
believe  in  revelation.  They  accept  the  truth 
which  is  being  arrived  at  by  observation  and 
research  ;  they  live  morally  by  another  truth 
which  they  hold  has  come  down  from  heaven. 
But  when  these  two  appear  to  clash,  as  is  often 


The  Etebnal  Revelation. 


enough  the  case,  the  modem  believer  has  no 
solution  of  the  difficulty.  He  is  only  uneasily 
conscious  that  his  two  life  theories  are  some- 
how at  war,  and  his  soul  suffers  accordingly. 

It  is  time  this  war  was  ended,  and  that  can 
only  be  in  one  way.  ReHgious  peace  will 
come,  a  peace  final  and  abiding,  when  men 
everywhere  recognise  that  these  two  things 
are,  after  all,  one  ;  that  science  and  revelation 
are  really  the  same  thing  ;  that  there  is  no  true 
revelation  that  is  not  science,  and  that  there 
is  no  true  science  that  is  not  revelation. 
Humanity  has  been  long,  and  by  devious 
routes,  working  its  way  towards  this  con- 
clusion, and  at  last  it  is  fully  in  sight.  To 
accept  it,  we  know,  means  to  cut  through 
a  greatmany  venerable  ideas,  hut,  crede  expertise 
when  we  have  done  the  business,  we  find 
ourselves  spiritually  not  one  penny  the  worse. 
**  What,"  exclaims  some  one,  **  are  we  then 
to  put  Scripture  on  the  same  level  as  science  ; 
are  we  to  regard  the  apostles  as  inspired  in  no 
other  way  than  a  Copernicus  or  a  Newton  ?  " 

Let  us  take  here  one  thing  at  a  time.  The 
question  for  the  moment  is  as  to  authority ; 
as  to  a  soUd  enough  basis  for  our  behef. 
Waiving  for  the  moment  all  speculative  aspects 
of  the  matter,  and  coming  straight  to  the 
practical  issue,  let  us  ask  ourselves,  "  Which 
of  the  two  bases  of  belief  to-day  is  the  more 
sohdly  estabhshed  in  the  human  mind,  that 


The  Eternal  Religion. 


which  founds  itself  on  scientific  grounds,  or 
that  founded  on  the  old  theological  assumption? 
When  a  man  puts  this  question  frankly 
to  himself  there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the 
answer.  Science  is  to-day  the  authority. 
Do  we  not  see,  however,  that  by  this  admission 
we  recognise  that  the  inspiration  question 
has  really  solved  itself  ?  We  cannot  have 
anything  better  than  the  best.  There  are  no 
two  sorts  or  degrees  of  truth.  Truth  to  us  is 
the  thing  we  beheve  ;  the  thing  which  brings 
to  the  mind  its  own  irresistible  proof.  And 
so  the  truth  brought  to  us  by  a  Paul,  and 
that  offered  by  a  Kepler,  are  seen  as  ultimately 
on  the  same  basis,  that  of  the  evidence  behind 
and  in  them ;  of  their  inherent  congruity 
with  the  perceptions  and  laws  of  our  mental 
life.  What  more  do  we  want  ?  Calvin  was 
really,  though  perhaps  unconsciously,  recog- 
nising this  principle  when,  on  being  asked 
on  what  he  based  the  authority  of  the  New 
Testament,  if  he  threw  away  the  dogma  of  the 
Church's  infaUibility,  he  replied  that  it  carried 
its  own  authority.  It  appealed  to  the  heart 
as  colour  appeals  to  the  eye,  and  is  its  own 
revelation. 

Observe  that  here  we  are  in  no  way  diminish- 
ing the  religious  value  of  revelation.  We  are 
simply  broadening  its  range  and  placing  it  on 
a  surer  ground.  For  the  universe  which  by 
slow  degrees  is  opening  to  us  by  the  telescope 


The  Eternal  Revelation, 


and  by  spectrum  analysis  is  one  with  the 
universe  discovered  to  us  in  the  rehgious 
consciousness  and  in  the  pages  of  the  Bible. 
They  are  only  varying  aspects  of  the  same 
reality.  How  certain  this  is  is  proved  by  the 
simple  consideration  that  every  advance  made 
by  science  in  cosmic  knowledge  has  immediately 
reacted  upon  our  theological  ideas.  The 
two  things  march  together.  The  mere  fact, 
for  instance,  that  the  patristic  writers  of  the 
early  Christian  centuries  based  their  inter- 
pretations of  Scripture,  and  their  whole 
thought  system  upon  a  world-view  which 
included  a  creation  in  six  days,  a  geocentric 
universe,  and  a  literal  interpretation  of  the 
Genesis  story  of  the  FaU,  alters  entirely 
our  view  of  their  own  authority  as  spiritual 
teachers,  as  well  as  of  the  formal  creeds  of 
which  they  were  the  authors.  Science  has  here 
inevitably  asserted  its  authority  in  the  sphere 
of  doctrine.  On  the  other  hand  we  are 
beginning  to  see,  as  never  before,  the  directly 
religious  value  of  science.  The  great  teachers 
have,  indeed,  always  realised  that.  Let  any- 
one read  the  lives  of  the  pioneers  of  research  ; 
let  him  read  the  story  of  a  Copernicus,  of  a 
Kepler,  of  a  Newton,  the  men  who,  as  one 
of  them  said,  "  read  God's  thoughts  after 
Him,"  and  note  the  religious  awe  which 
filled  their  spirits  as  the  realm  of  truth  opened 
before   them ;     let   him   read   of   Copernicus, 


6  The  Eternal  Religion. 

when  his  great  discovery  burst  upon  him, 
regarding  it  as  a  new  vision  of  God  ;  of  Kepler, 
praying  that  "  he  might  find  in  his  own  soul 
the  God  whom  he  discovered  everywhere 
without,"  and  he  will  see  that  here  also  is  one 
of  the  open  roads  of  the  Spirit.  The  present 
attitude  of  the  scientific  leaders  is,  in  this 
respect,  most  noteworthy.  The  materialism 
of  thirty  years  ago  has  been  outgrown.  Men 
have  tunnelled  through  their  mountain  and 
are  reaching  the  sunshine  on  the  other  side. 
The  utterances  of  a  Kelvin,  of  a  Crookes, 
of  a  Lodge,  are  a  testimony  that  the  age 
of  revelation  is  not  over,  and  that  what  is  now 
being  opened  to  us  is  on  the  same  note  and 
toward  the  same  end  as  the  utterance  of 
prophets  and  apostles. 

Where  the  Church  has  fallen  into  error,  and 
brought  confusion  into  our  thinking,  has  been 
not  in  affirming  a  Divine  revelation,  but  in  re- 
stricting it  to  one  particular  time  or  set  of  times, 
and  to  one  particular  order  of  ideas.  Whereas 
the  Divine  revelation  is  an  eternal  one  ;  has 
been  going  on  from  the  beginning  ;  is  going 
on  now.  It  is  a  favourite  idea  of  certain 
researchers,  illustrated,  too,  with  a  vast 
mass  of  evidence,  that  every  tribe  of  man  has 
in  its  literature  or  customs  the  marks  of  a  pure 
and  elevated  primitive  faith.  However  that 
may  be,  one  cannot  read  the  world's  story  at 
any  point  without   realising  how,   from   the 


The  Eternal  Revelation. 


beginning,  the  men  of  every  nation  have  been 
under  a  spiritual  discipline.     Who  that  has 
looked  into  the  Bhagavad  Gita  but  has  felt 
this  as  regards  India  ?     When  we  read,  too, 
the  definition  of  rehgion  by  Asoka,  the  great 
Buddhist    king :  "  Rehgion    is    an    excellent 
thing.     But  what  is  rehgion  ?     Rehgion  is  the 
least  possible  evil,  much  good,  piety,  charity, 
veracity,  and  also  purity  of  life,"  can  we  doubt 
that    here,    also,    was    a    heavenly    leading  ? 
The  Stoics  were  seekers  after  God  if  ever  there 
were    any ;  and    when    Epictetus    declares  j 
**  When  you  have  shut  your  door  and  darkened 
your  room,  say  not  to  yourself  you  are  alone  ; 
God    is    in   your   room "  ;  we    may   be   sure 
that  some  of  them  had  not  only  sought  God, 
but  found  Him.     That  was  a  truth  which  some 
of  the  early  Fathers  were  not  slow  to  realise. 
It  is  pleasant  to  see  an  Origen,  a  Clement, 
openly  proclaiming  that  the  great  Greek  and 
Latin  teachers  spoke  by  the  inspiration  of  the 
Eternal  Word.     Zwingli,   who  saw  so  many 
things  before  his  time,  saw  this  also.     In  a 
**  Confession   of   Faith "   written   just   before 
his  death,  he  speaks  of  "  the  assembly  of  all 
the  saintly,  the  heroic,  the  faithful  and  the 
virtuous,  when  Abel  and  Enoch,  Noah  and 
Abraham,  Isaac  and  Jacob,  wiU  mingle  with 
Socrates,  Aristides  and  Antigonus,  with  Numa 
and    CamiUus,    Hercules    and    Theseus,    the 
Scipios  and  the  Catos,  and  when  every  upright 


8  The  Eternal  Religion. 

and  holy  man  who  has  ever  Hved  shall  be 
present  with  his  Lord."  Luther  and  Bossuet, 
from  their  opposite  camps,  joined  in  con- 
demning this  utterance.  We  to-day,  in 
the  clearer  light  that  has  come  to  us,  are 
sure  that  he  was  right  and  that  they  were 
wrong. 

It  is  only  in  this  view  of  the  eternal  revelation 
that  we  obtain  any  consistent  or  tenable 
position  in  relation  to  the  Scriptures.  But 
in  that  view  all  becomes  clear.  I  The  Bible, 
properly  read — read,  that  is,  in  tne  historical 
sequence  of  its  books — offers  the  most  striking 
illustration  in  Hterature  of  that  spiritual 
evolution  which  constitutes  the  rehgious  history 
of  the  world.  '  These  pages  are  hke  the  fossil- 
crowded  strata  in  a  geological  series,  that  reveal 
the  successive  steps  along  which  life  has 
ascended  from  the  beginning.  We  see  here 
how,  under  a  never-ceasing  guidance  and 
upHft,  man  has  slowly  clarified  his  view  of 
God,  of  his  brother,  of  duty,  of  sacrifice,  of  life 
and  death.  And  just  as  the  geological  story 
gives  us  at  intervals  gaps  and  convulsions, 
periods  which  mark  fresh  eras  and  the  coming 
of  a  new  order,  so  here,  in  the  passage  from 
the  Old  Testament  to  the  New,  we  discern 
a  fresh  epoch  opening,  a  glorious  and  unparal- 
leled enhancement  of  man's  spiritual  life.  |  The 
world  has  suddenly  become  warm  with  the 
Divine   presence.     God   has   come   nearer   to 


The  Eternal  Revelation.  d 

man.     Jesus,  in  His  perfect  consciousness  of 
the  Father,  has  made  all  things  new. 

But  the  revelation  still  goes  on.  For  no 
fresh  fact  that  emerges  in  the  physical  sphere 
but  will  shed  its  own  light  on  the  spiritual 
sphere.  That  the  New  Testament  is  a  different 
book  to  us  from  what  it  was  to  our  fathers  is 
proof  in  itself  that  the  revelation  continues. 
The  Spirit  of  Truth  is  ever  fulfiUing  His 
mission.  The  human  consciousness  is  a  volume 
in  which  God  incessantly  writes,  and  each 
generation  has  its  special  contribution.  Vinet 
has  in  this  connection  a  prophetic  word  which 
we  to-day  need  specially  to  remember.  "  The 
Reformation,"  says  he,  "is  ever  permanent 
in  the  Church  even  as  Christianity.  It  is 
Christianity  restoring  itself  by  its  own  inherent 
strength.  So  that  even  to-day  .  .  .  the 
Reformation  is  still  a  thing  to  be  done,  a  thing 
ever  to  be  recommenced,  and  for  which  Luther 
and  Calvin  only  prepared  a  smoother  and 
broader  way." 


11. 

Doctrine  and  Experience. 

In  the  former  chapter  we  discussed,  as  a 
phase  of  the  eternal  religion,  the  concurrent 
revelation  opened  to  us  in  science  and  Chris- 
tianity. We  may  now  take  a  further  step  in 
reviewing  some  of  the  relations  between  the 
existent  Christian  theology  and  the  primitive 
experiences  on  which  it  is  based. 

The  world  has  had  before  it,  for  now  some 
fifteen  centuries,  a  system  of  closely-knit 
propositions,  offered  as  the  orthodox  account 
of  the  Christian  faith.  The  acceptance  of 
these  propositions  has,  during  this  time,  been 
regarded  by  devout  persons  as  a  condition 
of  salvation,  as  well  as  essential  to  character 
and  respectability.  Upon  them  has  been 
reared  a  new  morality,  with  a  whole  vocabulary 
special  to  itself  of  "  virtues  and  their  contrary 
vices."  To  doubt  these  propositions  was  a 
deadly  sin ;  nay,  more,  it  was  a  criminal 
offence,  for  which  millions  of  people  have  been 
put  to  death.  "  Miscreant,"  than  which  we 
have  nowhere  a  more  opprobrious  word,  is  a 

10 


Doctrine  and  Experience.  11 

literal  translation  of  '  *  misbeliever. ' '  One  needs 
to  be  steeped  in  the  patristic  and  mediaeval 
literature  to  learn  the  terrific  significance  to 
men  of  those  times  of  the  word  "  heretic.'' 
As  late  as  the  sixteenth  century  we  have 
Cardinal  Pole  declaring  that  thieves,  murderers 
and  adulterers  were  not  to  be  compared  in 
criminality  with  those  who  sought  to  tamper 
with  the  CathoHc  belief  ;  while  Newman,  in 
our  own  time,  speaks  of  the  publisher  of  heresy 
as  being  "  embodied  evil." 

But,  as  we  have  seen,  there  has  arisen  against 
this  set  of  ideas  a  vast  and  ever-growing 
revolt.  It  was  found  for  one  thing  that  the 
propositions  themselves  were  some  of  them 
doubtful.  It  was,  perhaps,  an  even  more 
important  discovery  that  the  mere  acceptance 
of  dogmas  was  in  itself  neither  religion  nor 
morality.  Of  this  latter  truth  the  orthodox 
centuries  had  indeed  been  piling  up  an  only 
too  abundant  evidence.  There  has  never 
been  a  lower  morality,  a  more  absolute 
dissoluteness,  and  lack  of  all  the  fibre  of 
character  than  in  times  and  places  where  every 
article  of  the  Creed  has  been  accepted  without 
question.  The  brigands  of  Sicily  and  Spain 
are  orthodox  Catholics.  The  monks  who 
figured  in  that  unspeakable  record  the  "  Black 
Book "  of  the  monasteries,  compiled  for 
Thomas  Cromwell,  had  subscribed  all  the 
creeds.    It  was  not  of  heretical  sects,  but  of 


12  The  Eternal  Religion. 

the  Roman  clergy,  that  Jerome  in  the  fourth 
century  draws  the  life-like  picture  in  which 
they  are  depicted  as  "  flattering  rich  matrons, 
spending  the  day  in  calls  at  grand  houses, 
admiring  a  cushion  or  a  handkerchief  by  way 
of  obtaining  it  as  a  present,  walking  abroad 
with  hair  aesthetically  arranged  and  rings 
glittering  on  their  fingers "  ;  while  monks 
are  described  as  "  worming  their  way  into 
favour  with  the  rich,  and  pretending  to  fast, 
while  they  repaid  themselves  with  nightly 
revelry." 

The  revolt  against  doctrine  once  started 
took,  as  revolts  are  apt  to  do,  extravagant 
forms.  The  creeds  which  had  so  despotically 
ruled,  were  in  the  fashionable  circles  of  the 
eighteenth  century  mocked  at  and  despised. 
In  those  *'  suppers  of  the  gods,"  at  Sans 
Souci,  with  Frederick  the  Great  as  host,  and 
Voltaire,  Algarotti,  and  D'Argens  among 
the  guests  ;  when  the  wit  was,  according  to 
Sulzer,  who  had  been  present,  "  more  brilliant 
than  anything  he  had  read  in  books,"  the  old 
beUefs  were  one  of  the  prime  subjects  of  raillery. 
Voltaire  considered  he  had  laughed  the  Chris- 
tian doctrines  out  of  existence.  Condorcet 
arraigned  them  as  built  up  in  ignorance  of 
natural  laws.  Diderot  declared  the  Christian 
system  to  be  *'  of  all  systems  the  most  absurd 
and  atrocious  in  its  dogmas,  the  most  unin- 
teUigible,    metaphysical    and    intricate,    and 


DOCTEINE  AND   EXPERIENCE.  13 

consequently  the  most  liable  to  divisions, 
schisms  and  heresies."  A  large  portion  of  the 
adult  male  population  of  France  has  since 
that  time  been  brought  up  in  this  opinion, 
or  has  embraced  it. 

But  the  Voltairean  position  about  Christian 
doctrine  is,  with  scholars  and  thinkers,  as 
much  out  of  date  as  the  dogmatic  despotism 
against  which  it  was  a  reaction.  The  world, 
after  flying  from  one  extreme  to  the  other,  is  at 
last,  in  these^matters,  reaching  a  more  central 
and  secure  position.  And  the  cardinal  point  in 
the  new  thought  structure  is,  as  we  have  said, 
the  discovery  of  the  proper  relation  between 
doctrine  and  experience.  Doctrine,  as  we 
now  see,  is  not  the  artificial  product — vamped 
up  by  the  priests  for  their  own  purpose — 
which  the  French  Encyclopaedists  imagined. 
It  has,  on  the  contrary,  its  place  in  the  nature 
of  things.  It  is  in  every  case  the  explanation, 
according  to  the  lights  available  at  the  time, 
of  certain  human  experiences.  However  high 
the  metaphysics  soar,  their  starting-point 
is  a  phase  of  consciousness  through  which  the 
human  spirit  has  at  some  time  passed.  The 
Athanasian  Creed  may  seem  at  first  sight  a 
mass  of  cobweb  speculation.  But  it  would 
never  have  been  in  the  world  apart  from  a  series 
of  historical  experiences.  Its  doctrine  of 
Christ  is  the  attempt,  according  to  the  formulas 
of  that  age,  to  put  into  words  the  transmitted 


14  The  Eternal  Religion. 

impressions  of  the  first  disciples  concerning 
their  Master.  The  doctrine  of  the  Spirit  is 
a  similar  rendering  of  inner  movements  of  the 
soul. 

But  the  whole  crux  of  the  modern  question, 
the  hinge  of  its  demand  for  a  theologic  recon- 
struction, lies  in  the  question  :  Granted  the 
experiences,  as  genuine,  and  as  unspeakably 
valuable,  are  the  doctrines  handed  down  to 
us  a  proper  or  adequate  interpretation  of 
them  ?  In  other  departments  it  is  a  common- 
place of  history  how  experiences  which  for 
centuries  were  common  to  all  men  had  been 
by  all  men  misinterpreted.  Countless  millions 
had  seen  the  sun's  daily  ascent  into  the  heavens, 
and  had  obtained  from  the  spectacle  a  view 
of  the  solar  system  proved  afterwards  to  be 
false.  It  has  been  the  world's  age-long  educa- 
tion to  gain  rules  for  the  proper  interpretation 
of  phenomena.  We  are  now  discovering  that 
we  are  only  at  the  beginning  of  the  lesson. 
How  far,  with  all  our  training,  we  are  competent 
as  interpreters  is  seen  in  the  modern  attitude 
to  Spiritualism.  Here  are  experiences  which 
no  one  can  doubt.  But  what  do  they  stand 
for  ?  There  are  serious  and  capable  men  who 
declare  them  an  obsession  of  evil  spirits  ;  a 
Huxley  denounces  them  as  frauds  ;  a  con- 
temporary of  his,  fully  his  mental  equal,  the 
mathematician  De  Morgan,  declares  his  con- 
viction^that    the    phenomena    he   had   seen 


Doctrine  and  Experience.  15 


*'  showed  a  combination  of  will,  intellect 
and  physical  power  which  were  not  that  of 
any  of  the  human  beings  present." 

But  if  we,  after  our  ages  of  culture,  in 
presence  of  facts  of  this  order,  are  so  much 
at  sea  in  our  explanations  of  them,  how  far,  we 
are  now  asking,  were  the  first  Christian  disciples, 
and  the  doctrine-makers  who  came  after  them  3 
in  a  position  to  explain  what  they  had  felt  in 
the  presence  of  Christ  ?  They  called  Christ 
divine ;  and  truly,  for  they  felt  that  in  His 
person,  word  and  influence,  the  Divine  had 
in  very  deed  come  amongst  them.  Their 
language,  as  it  has  come  to  us,  is  the  evidence 
of  the  stupendous  spiritual  impression  the 
Master  had  made.  In  like  manner  their 
doctrine  of  the  Spirit  was  a  reflex  of  a  blessed 
yet  unspeakable  work  going  on  within  them. 

That  they  should  call  Christ  divine  was  not 
only  to  express,  as  adequately  as  they  knew 
how,  what  was  to  them  an  indubitably  Divine 
Fact.  It  was,  we  have  to  remember,  in 
strict  accord  with  the  whole  former  tradition 
of  humanity.  The  world  from  the  beginning 
has  held,  with  a  true  instinct,  that  the  Divine 
manifestation,  wherever  traceable,  has  been 
always  through  the  human.  It  was  from  the 
human,  indeed,  men  climbed  to  the  idea  of  a 
Divine.  It  may  well  be,  as  Euhemerus 
maintained  in  the  fourth  century,  and  as 
Jjocke  and  Nietz;sche  after  him  have  contended. 


16  The  Eternal  Religion. 

that  the  pagan  gods  were  originally  illustrious 
kings  who  were  deified  after  death.  All  the 
forms  of  worship  and  all  its  vocabulary  began 
on  this  lower  plane.  The  kneeling,  the  uplifted 
hand,  the  prayer  of  intercession,  fhe  adoring 
words  even,  came  first  into  history  as  addressed 
to  human  rulers.  The  final  reference  to  an 
Unseen,  Infinite  and  All  Holy,  was  a  later 
inspiration. 

What  is  behind  the  human  has  ever  been 
the  mystery.  And  the  mystery  reached  its 
culmination  in  Christ.  He  stood  before  the 
disciples  with  the  Infinite  as  His  background. 
And  this  Infinite  behind  Him  was  also  within 
Him.  The  early  Church  did  its  best  to  describe 
that  Infinite,  with  what  results  we  know. 
But  it  is  not  these  explanations  that  have 
given  us  Christianity  or  that  have  advanced 
religion.  That  was  done  by  the  soul's  actual 
experiences.  It  was  when  the  disciples  felt 
their  hearts  "  bum  within  them  "  in  contact 
with  the  Master,  when  they  realised  the  gracious 
uplift  of  His  teaching,  the  ineffable  peace  He 
breathed  upon  them,  that  in  them  religion 
found  its  life  and  its  self-propagating  power. 
And  it  has  been  so  ever  since.  When  Wesley, 
at  the  meeting  in  Aldersgate  Street  in  1738, 
*'  felt  his  heart  strangely  warmed,"  and  entered 
there  and  then  into  joy  and  peace  in  beHeving, 
there  were  forces  at  work  which  neither  he  nor 
we  are  fully  competent  to  explain.    But  the 


Doctrine  and  Experience.  17 

forces  were  there,  and  they  were  redeeming 
forces.  It  is  here,  in  what  men  age  after  age 
have  felt  of  the  inner  quaUty  of  the  Gospel,  of 
its  mystic  heavenly  drawing  of  the  soul 
towards  peace  and  purity,  that  its  abiding 
power  consists.  The  doctrine  may  go.  It  is 
at  best  an  explanation.  But  the  experience 
is  a  fact,  and  remains.  And  it  contains  a 
doctrine  grander  than  any  we  have  had  yet. 


III. 

The    Eternal    Commerce. 

Walter  Bagehot,  in  one  of  his  essays,  asks, 
"  How  can  a  soul  be  a  merchant  ?  What 
relations  to  an  immortal  being  have  the  price 
of  Hnseed,  the  fall  of  butter  ?  "  The  question 
is  flung  out  as  a  kind  of  challenge.  And 
assuredly,  in  the  many  sordid  aspects  of 
modern  business  life,  the  soul,  in  any  high 
sense  of  it,  has  little  enough  to  do.  And  yet 
the  soul  has  a  commerce.  There  is,  indeed, 
no  aspect  of  its  life  which  opens  so  wide  a 
field  as  this  of  its  give  and  take,  of  its  incessant 
barter  with  men  and  things,  with  the  universe 
it  dwells  in.  It  partakes  to  the  full  of  that 
vast  system  of  intercourse  by  which  every- 
thing passes  into  everything  else  ;  by  which 
earth  and  sky,  sea  and  land,  the  light  from 
Sirius  and  the  fire  in  yonder  grate,  are  united 
as  in  a  cosmic  zoUverein,  a  league  of  perpetual 
and  intimate  exchange.  It  is,  indeed,  when 
we  consider  the  soul's  commercial  methods, 
the  business  laws,  so  to  speak,  which  from  the 
beginning  have  been  imposed  on  it,  that  wq 


The  Eternal  Commerce.  19 

obtain  glimpses  of  what  is  yet  to  rule  in  the 
world's  factories  and  counting-houses.  If  we 
attentively  study  what  we  have  imbedded  at 
the  centre  of  us,  we  shall  find  there  a  political 
economy,  a  business  system,  not  yet  recog- 
nised on  'Change,  but  which  is  yet  to  rule. 
Ethereal  in  quality,  it  is  yet  solid  as  the  hills, 
for  it  is  rooted  in  the  nature  of  things.  The 
commercial  "  vade  mecum  "  of  the  future  will 
come  out  of  the  soul's  primal  intuitions  ;  will 
follow  its  methods  of  getting  and  of  giving. 
Let  us  examine  one  or  two  of  these  methods. 
The  soul  begins  as  a  receiver  on  a  vast 
scale.  It  is  as  if  a  billionaire  had  invested 
his  capital  in  us.  How  ludicrous  the  pose 
of  independence  when  we  think  of  our 
history !  When  our  consciousness  takes  up 
the  business  of  life  it  begins  millions  of  years 
from  the  start.  Through  that  immensity  of 
time  the  universe  has  been  in  incessant  labour 
to  make  you  and  me  possible.  It  was  there 
with  its  myriad  forces,  shaping  a  world  for  us, 
shaping  a  body,  shaping  a  soul.  The  fingers 
on  our  hand,  the  eyes  in  our  head,  the  separate 
mental  faculties  as  we  know  them,  have  each 
a  history  of  development  marvellous  almost 
beyond  belief.  If  wealth  is,  as  the  economists 
say,  the  product  of  labour,  at  what  figure, 
may  we  ask,  would  stand  the  inheritance  we 
have  come  into,  and  that  without  a  farthing 
paid  on  our  part  ? 


20  The  Eternal  Religion. 

That  is  a  part  of  the  account.  Another 
page  of  the  ledger,  always  on  the  debit  side, 
opens  with  our  conscious  life.  Here  again  an 
incessant,  unpaid  for,  receiving.  We  breathe 
the  air  of  liberty.  It  was  won  by  our  fore- 
fathers, who,  some  of  them,  laid  down  their 
lives  as  the  price.  Our  mind,  as  it  opens, 
gulps  knowledge,  truth,  beauty.  Civilisation, 
the  arts,  music,  science,  the  myriad  conveni- 
ences of  life,  are  there,  waiting  for  us.  And 
they  are  all  gifts.  Our  billionaire,  it  seems, 
is  fitting  us  up  gratis  and  regardless  of  expense. 
Yet  more.  It  is  made  plain  to  us  that  this 
largeness  of  reception  is  the  condition  and 
ground  of  our  value.  Our  quality  of  being 
is  according  to  our  power  of  taking  in.  The 
universe,  with  all  its  wealth  of  being,  is  around 
the  oyster  just  as  much  as  around  you  and 
me.  The  difference  between  us  is  that  the 
oyster  cannot  digest  the  universe  as  we  can. 
Our  faculties,  our  organs,  are  the  most  insatiate 
of  beggars,  incessant  with  their  "  give,  give," 
at  every  point  extracting  from  the  world 
its  precious  things,  and  carrying  them  to  that 
limitless  absorber,  our  inner  self. 

At  this  stage  of  the  account  two  points 
arise.  For  one  thing,  the  story  of  our 
receptiveness  should  teach  us  something  on 
the  ethics  of  reception.  If  our  account  here 
be  true,  the  cosmos  lends  no  countenance  to 
the  ascetic  view  of  life.    The  history  of  the 


The  Eternal  Commerce.  21 

soul's  ascent  shows  the  reverse  of  a  break 
with  the  world's  treasures  as  a  means  of  pro- 
gress. It  has  been,  on  the  contrary,  by  an 
ever-increasing  capacity  of  absorption,  by  a 
multiplying  of  the  channels  and  passages 
along  which  the  outer  world  could  flow  to 
the  inner,  that  the  upward  movement  has 
been  marked.  And  this  holds  of  material  as 
well  as  of  spiritual  goods.  The  two  indeed 
cannot  be  separated.  There  were  no  inner 
function  apart  from  the  outer  structure. 
The  ethic  of  the  future,  recognising  all  this, 
will  seek  not  to  destroy  wealth,  but  to  increase 
it.  Its  effort  will  be  rather  for  a  wider  distri- 
bution, so  that  each  member  of  the  family 
may  come  by  his  share. 

The  other  point  is  as  to  our  personal  attitude 
towards  receiving.  There  is  a  grace  of 
accepting,  of  consenting  with  humility  and 
gladness  to  be  the  receivers  of  gifts  which 
many  of  us  have  not  yet  learned.  The  lack 
here  is  the  peculiar  failing  of  strong  characters. 
Such,  royally  generous  in  their  giving,  forget 
sometimes  that  there  is  an  even  greater 
generosity  of  receiving.  For  often,  to  take 
a  favour,  to  place  ourselves  under  an  obligation, 
and  especially  where  the  giver  is,  in  the 
world's  eye,  inferior  to  ourselves,  is  the 
sweetest  as  it  is  the  subtlest  form  of  human 
kindness.  It  is  offering  our  weaker  brother 
his  chance.    A  man  feels  his  dignity  when  he 


22  The  Eternal  Religion. 

gives.  It  is  the  moment  often  of  his  highest 
self-realisation.  Let  us  help  him  to  that, 
where  it  is  a  help.  Indeed,  whenever  we 
forget  our  essential  dependence,  both  to  one 
another  and  to  that  whole  scheme  of  things 
which  enfolds  us  ;  whenever  we  forget  that 
our  only  proper  attitude  to  the  lowliest  of 
our  fellows,  as  well  as  to  the  Power  whence 
all  is  derived,  is  that  of  humility  and  gratitude, 
we  show  disloyalty  to  the  soul's  first  principles  ; 
forgetfulness  of  the  whole  road  along  which 
it  has  travelled. 

Thus  of  receiving.  But  the  ledger  has 
another  side.  Our  capitaHst,  lavish  though 
he  seems,  does  not  appear  to  be  a  fool.  His 
outlay  is  an  investment.  He  expects  a 
return.  To  vary  our  phrasing,  the  soul's 
history,  as  we  have  sketched  it,  offers  to  every 
rightly  constituted  mind  a  silent  but  irresistible 
appeal.  From  these  colossal  figures  on  the 
debit  side  the  finger  points  to  the  opposite 
column  with  mute  but  eloquent  interrogation. 
That  enormous,  piled-up  indebtedness  to  life, 
what  does  it  mean  to  us  ?  Our  nature  in  its 
very  make  contains  the  germ  of  the  response. 
Linked  with  the  afferent  nerves  which  carry 
the  universe  to  our  inner  sense,  are  the  efferent 
nerves,  designed  to  be  the  bearers  of  the  output 
by  which  we  seek  to  balance  the  account. 
It  is  this  feeling  of  social  obligation,  weighing 
on  every  mother's  son  of  us,  which  in  our 


The  Eternal  Commerce.  23 

view  should  form  one  of  the  chief  features  in 
modern  education.  We  need  to  create  in 
every  young  heart  a  sense  of  what  life,  as  they 
possess  it,  has  meant  in  toil  and  sacrifice  to 
former  ages,  till  their  soul  burns  with  a  desire 
to  repay.  At  every  school-bench  and  college- 
desk,  the  question  should  arise,  "  What  1 
Shall  I  sit  at  the  world's  banquet  and  feast 
on  these  good  things  that  others  have  provided, 
and  offer  nothing  in  return  ?  "  The  question 
should  burn  in  them  till  they  cry  with  Walt 
Whitman,  eager  with  him  to  leap  into  the 
foremost  files,  *'  Pioneers,  0  Pioneers  !  " 

Profoundly  interesting  is  it  also  to  note 
the  inner  laws  according  to  which  the  soul, 
in  its  commerce,  settles  its  debtor  and  creditor 
account.  The  method  is  significantly  different 
from  that  current  in  some  business  circles. 
We  hear  of  "so  much  work  for  so  much  pay," 
where  the  aim  is  to  get  the  highest  pay  for  the 
least  work.  There  are  transactions  in  which 
the  contracting  parties  seek  each  to  get  the 
better  of  the  other.  That  is  not  the  soul's 
way.  Observe  the  action  of  a  high  nature. 
Its  commerce  is  that  of  a  free  giving  as  the 
result  of  a  free  receiving.  It  takes  in  of  all 
sorts,  transmuting,  by  its  mystic  chemistry, 
the  raw  material  into  a  something  higher  and 
different.  Like  radium,  an  extract  of  an 
extract,  which  out  of  a  dozen  substances  has 
become  a  new  substance  with  infinite  energy 


24  The  Eternal  Beligioi?. 

and  action  ;  so  the  soul,  drawing  in  from  every 
realm  and  corner  of  the  world,  turns  these 
multiform  ingredients  into  its  own  quality 
of  being,  to  pour  it  henceforth  upon  the  world 
as  its  own  contribution  to  life. 

This  is  the  other,  the  royal  side  of  the  soul's 
commerce,  an  incessant  giving,  which  becomes 
ever  a  nobler  giving  as  our  nature  rises  in 
quahty.  We  talk  of  our  charities.  We  give, 
in  England,  say  the  statisticians,  fourteen 
millions  a  year  in  public  charities.  But  the 
real  giving  finds  no  expression  in  figures. 
The  true  worker  is,  in  his  work,  always  first 
and  foremost  a  giver.  The  artist,  the  poet, 
the  writer,  the  singer,  follow  the  law  of  the 
soul's  commerce.  "  Paradise  Lost,"  the 
"  Moonlight  Sonata,"  the  "  Laocoon  "  were 
never  paid  for  in  cash.  The  pay  was  in  the 
joy  of  the  worker,  pouring  out  of  his  best. 
There  is  more  cash  moving  in  artistic  circles 
to-day  than  of  old,  but  the  rule  is  still  the 
same.  With  the  true  soul  the  one  impelUng 
motive  is  to  offer  of  its  highest. 

But  with  such  natures  the  best  is  not  even 
in  the  visible  work,  good  though  that  may  be. 
At  every  conscious  moment  a  great  heart  is 
exhaling  into  the  world  a  something  more 
precious  than  gold,  more  vital  than  art. 
Matthew  Arnold,  when  he  speaks  of  the  early 
Christians  as  **  drawing  from  the  spiritual 
world  a  source  of  joy  so  abundant  that  it  ran 


The  Etebnal  Commebob.  25 

over  upon  the  material  world  and  trans- 
figured it,"  gives  the  best  illustration  of  what 
we  mean.  The  greatest  happiness  the  heart 
of  man  knows  is  in  its  contact  with  an  outflow 
of  that  kind.  The  first  disciples  willingly- 
left  all  and  followed  Christ  because  of  what 
they  found  in  that  contact.  And  as  men 
approximate  to  that  Highest  Nature  so  is 
the  preciousness  of  the  gift  of  themselves. 
What  such  have  to  offer  is  beautifully  expressed 
in  the  account  given  by  Gregory  Thaumaturgus 
of  his  meeting  with  Origen,  in  which  he  declares 
that  "  the  first  day  of  his  receiving  us  was  in 
truth  the  first  day  to  me,  and  the  most  precious 
of  all  days,  since  then  for  the  first  time  the 
true  sun  began  to  rise  upon  me."  What  a 
goal  of  character  to  aim  at,  even  if  not  to 
reach,  where  the  mere  contact  with  us  is 
reckoned  as  a  red-letter  day,  as  the  hour 
of  sunrise  for  the  soul ! 

A  topic  like  this  has  endless  applications. 
The  working,  business  world  will  never  come 
to  its  best  till  it  allows  the  soul's  intuitions 
fuller  play.  The  possibilities  of  life  will  never 
be  properly  realised  until  each  one  of  us  is 
intent  on  getting  the  best  in  order  that  he 
may  give  the  best.  I  am  defrauding  my 
fellow  if  I  do  not  seek  to  broaden  and  deepen 
my  mind,  with  every  labour  and  exercise, 
that  I  may  speak  to  him  from  a  fuller  know- 
ledge, a  wider  experience.    What  an  immense 

8 


26  The  Eternal  Religiok. 

significance  for  all  teachers  lies  in  that  remark 
of  Stanley  on  Newman  :  "  How  different  the 
fortunes  of  the  Church  of  England  might  have 
been  if  Newman  had  been  able  to  read  German !  " 
How  dare  any  of  us  attempt  to  teach  unless 
we  have  learned  something,  and  unless  we  are 
continually  learning  more  !  And  this  learning 
will  have  to  be  more  than  a  secular  knowledge. 
Our  commerce  will  have  also  to  be  with  the 
Unseen.  To  us  must  apply  that  fine  idea  of 
Plutarch's,  where,  speaking  of  the  daimon  of 
Socrates,  he  declares  that  it  was  "  the  influence 
of  a  superior  intelligence,  and  a  diviner  soul 
operating  on  the  soul  of  Socrates,  whose  calm 
and  holy  temper  fitted  him  to  hear  this 
spiritual  speech." 


IV. 

Life  as  Symbol. 

A  FURTHER  first  principle  of  the  eternal 
religion  may  be  stated  as  that  of  the  essential 
symbolism  of  all  that  is  visible.  That  the 
things  of  this  world,  open  to  our  senses, 
have  another  and  hidden  meaning,  has  long 
been  a  commonplace  amongst  serious  people. 
Man  has  been  persuaded  of  it  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  world.  He  has,  indeed,  expressed 
his  conviction  on  this  point  in  singularly  odd 
forms.  One  of  the  earliest  and  most  favourite 
methods  of  religious  teaching  has  been  the 
symbolic,  the  allegorical.  What  the  Jews 
made  of  the  Old  Testament  in  this  way  can 
be  seen  by  consulting  Philo  Judseus.  But 
the  Christian  writers  have  not  been  behind- 
hand. Origen's  allegorical  treatment  of  the 
Bible  history  takes  one's  breath  away.  There 
have  been,  indeed,  successive  schools 
of  allegorisers  concerning  the  most  of  whom 
Calvin's  scathing  indictment  is  not  too  severe  ; 
"  Some  hare-brained  spirits  take  occasion 
from  this  to  turn  everything  into  allegory. 

27 


28  The  Eternal  Religion. 

Thus  they  change  dogs  into  men,  trees  into 
angels,  and  all  Scripture  into  a  laughing 
stock." 

Extravagance  apart,  however,  man  has 
found  enough  in  the  nature  of  things  to  con- 
vince him  of  the  inherent  doubleness  of  life 
and  the  world.  Both  he  and  his  environment, 
he  discovers,  are  so  constructed  as  inevitably 
to  convey  this  impression.  We  cannot  lift 
our  hand  without  striking  on  this  cosmic 
symbolism.  Every  simplest  thing  has  a  mystic 
invisible  lurking  behind  it.  Our  natural  is 
matched  ever  with  its  supernatural.  Take  a 
piece  of  writing.  In  itself  it  is  a  series  of  up 
and  down  strokes,  black  lines  on  a  piece  of 
white  paper.  But  these  strokes  are  loaded 
with  invisibles.  From  behind  them  there 
may  gleam  the  soul  of  a  Shakespeare,  out  of 
them  may  flash  wit  and  wisdom  treasured 
there  for  three  thousand  years. 

It  is  marvellous  to  note  how  this  symbolism, 
the  taking  of  an  outside  visible  as  representing 
a  whole  world  of  hidden  values,  has  woven 
itself  into  human  things.  In  the  com-se  of  the 
Russo-Japanese  war  there  was  talk  of  a 
tremendous  struggle  round  a  Russian  flag. 
Men  died  in  heaps  about  that  floating 
streamer.  What  was  it  ?  A  soiled,  ragged 
piece  of  silk.  That  was  all  the  eye  saw. 
But  these  men,  who  gave  their  life-blood  to 
keep   it  from   the   enemy,    recognised   there, 


Life  as  Symbol.  29 

woven  into  its  folds,  all  that  was  dear  to 
them — country,  home  and  honour.  Men  eat 
and  drink,  the  simplest  and  lowest  of  human 
acts.  They  are  doing  here  what  the  animals 
do,  urged  by  the  same  necessity.  But  the 
wild  Arab  will  make  the  eating  of  his  bread 
the  covenant  of  an  alliance  with  the  stranger 
who  shares  it,  and  through  centuries  millions 
of  believing  men  have  taken  bread  and  wine 
as  symbols  of  the  holiest  they  knew,  taken 
them  upon  their  knees,  realising  in  the  act 
things  ineffable  of  Divine  pity  and  love. 
Wonderful  world,  truly,  in  which,  in  this 
taking  of  bread  and  wine  a  man  could  see  what 
Irenaeus  has  expressed  :  "  For  as  the  bread 
which  is  produced  from  the  earth  when  it 
receives  the  invocation  of  God  is  no  longer 
common  bread  but  the  Eucharist,  consisting 
of  two  realities,  earthly  and  heavenly ;  so 
also  our  bodies,  when  they  receive  the  Eucharist, 
are  no  longer  corruptible,  having  the  hope  of 
resurrection  to  eternity."  It  is  not  necessary 
to  agree  here  with  Irenaeus  to  realise  the 
wonder  of  the  symbol  to  which  he  points  us. 
One  might  continue  these  illustrations, 
endlessly.  The  world  is  full  of  them.  Man 
persists  in  seeing  more  in  clay  and  mortar 
than  anything  they  yield  to  his  senses.  Yonder 
is  a  cottage  built  of  them,  the  simplest  village 
affair.  Its  worth  as  bricks  and  mortar  is 
ludicrously  small.    To  yonder  traveller,  who 


30  The  Eteenal  Religion. 

has  come  from  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  see  it, 
and  can  hardly  now  see  it  for  tears,  it  is  the 
place  of  unspeakable  memories  and  affections. 
Its  walls  are  saturated  with  the  invisibles 
that  give  value  to  life  ;  every  stone  is  eloquent 
of  the  loved  ones  that  are  gone,  of  the  faces 
and  voices  to  which  this  stranger  forty  years 
ago  bade  farewell  in  his  quest  for  fortune, 
but  which  he  has  carried  in  his  heart  ever 
since. 

It  is  not  strange  that,  with  things  like  these 
close  to  his  hand  to  teach  him,  man  should  have 
carried  the  significance  of  it  all  into  his  wider 
conceptions  of  life.  How  natural  that, 
prompted  thus  on  all  sides,  he  should  say  to 
himself,  "  Is  not,  then,  this  the  key  to  the 
whole  riddle  ?  Is  not  all  that  I  see  simply 
a  sign  and  representative  of  a  greater,  vaster 
thing  behind  ?  "  The  Eastern  world,  in  its 
doctrine  of  Maya,  or  illusion,  the  doctrine  that 
the  world  revealed  to  our  senses  was  a  mere 
mirage,  and  that  reality  was  to  be  sought 
elsewhere,  had  not  read  the  writing  quite 
accurately.  We  read  better  when  we  under- 
stand that  what  we  see  is  reality,  but  only 
the  outer  edge  of  it.  For  there  are  degrees 
in  reality,  and  we  are  as  yet  only  in  its  outer 
courts.  Mr.  Haldane,  in  his  Gifford  Lectures, 
has  struck  nearer  to  the  truth  in  his  suggestive 
remark  where,  speaking  on  the  outlook  to  a 
future  life,   he   observes  ;  "  The   mind   looks 


Life  as  Symbol.  31 

for  the  truth  of  those  things  as  to  be  got, 
not  so  much  by  setting  up  something  beyond, 
as  by  breaking  down  the  reality  of  what  is 
here  and  now,  so  as  to  transform  what  is 
appearance  here  and  now  into  the  presentation 
of  another  and  higher  aspect." 

It  is  when  we  have  properly  grasped  the 
idea  of  the  world  and  life  as  a  vast  symbolism, 
the  visible  standing  always  as  the  representa- 
tive of  a  greater  thing  behind,  that  we  are  in 
the  best  position  for  realising  the  proper 
significance  of  the  main  doctrines  of  religion. 
Multitudes  of  serious  minds  to-day  are  troubled 
sorely  by  the  difficulties  which  science  and 
modem  criticism  have  raised  as  against  the 
prominent  Christian  dogmas.  The  modern 
believer  is  startled  on  the  one  hand  to  find 
articles  of  his  creed  impugned  by  criticism, 
and  on  the  other  hand  to  find  these  same 
articles  paralleled,  to  a  wonderful  degree  of 
imitation,  in  other  and  alien  faiths.  His  views 
of  revelation,  incarnation,  atonement,  resurrec- 
tion, are,  in  the  form  he  has  held  them,  assailed 
by  the  weapons  of  history  and  of  reason  ; 
they  are,  at  the  same  time,  to  his  astonish- 
ment, placed  alongside  of  what  seem  almost 
exactly  similar  beliefs  which  Egyptians, 
Babylonians,  Mexicans  and  a  host  of  other 
peoples  have  held  concerning  the  unseen  world* 

It  is  precisely  at  this  point  that  our  doctrine 
of  the  symbol  comes  in  at  once  as  a  mediator 


32  The  Eternal  Religion. 

and  an  illuminant.  For  may  we  not  say  that 
the  law  of  the  double  which  we  have  found 
running  through  all  life  appUes  here  also  ; 
and  that  the  Christian  doctrines,  as  men 
have  formulated  them  out  of  the  Christian 
facts,  are  themselves  only  representative  and 
sjmabolic  ?  They  are  not  imtrue  ;  they  are 
packed  with  truth.  There  is  no  great  dogma 
that  has  risen  out  of  the  human  consciousness 
and  asserted  itself  with  authority  over  genera- 
tions of  men  but  has  some  sure  relation  to  the 
reality  of  things.  Where  we  have  made  the 
mistake  and  got  into  the  trouble  is,  that  we  have 
taken  these  statements  as  the  final  ones,  as 
themselves  the  ultimate  truth.  Whereas  they 
are  no  more  the  ultimate  than  our  other 
surroundings,  visible  to  the  eye,  are  ultimate. 
At  best  they  are  the  dim  adumbrations  of  a 
reality  whose  other  and  higher  aspects  are 
slowly  but  perpetually  disclosing  themselves. 
Let  no  one  doubt  that  there  has  been  a 
Christian  incarnation,  or  that  Jesus  Christ 
is  other  than,  as  Carlyle  put  it,  "  our  divinest 
symbol."  But  our  setting  of  the  fact  may 
be  far  enough  away  from  the  final  one.  So 
of  the  Christian  atonement.  When,  in  one 
of  the  earliest  and  most  beautiful  of  the 
Christian  writings  outside  the  New  Testament, 
the  Epistle  to  Diognetus,  we  read  this  state- 
ment of  Christ's  death  :  "  He  HimseK  took 
on  Him  the  burden  of  our  iniquities  ;  He  gave 


Life  as  Symbol.  33 

His  own  Son  to  be  a  ransom  for  us,  the  Holy 
One  for  transgressors,  the  Righteous  One 
for  the  unrighteous !  .  .  .  Oh,  benefits 
surpassing  all  expectation,  that  the  wickedness 
of  many  should  be  hid  in  a  single  Righteous 
One,  and  that  the  righteousness  of  One  should 
justify  many  transgressors,"  what  do  we 
make  of  it  all  ?  Do  we  accept  every  phrase 
here  as  the  literal  truth  ?  Or  do  we  reject 
the  statement  as  inherently  false  ?  Neither. 
We  see  as  through  a  glass  darkly.  But 
through  the  mists  of  this  old  interpretation 
we  discern  looming  the  proportions  of  a 
truth  of  life  whose  majesty  and  'divine 
inspiration  surpass  all  our  efforts  properly 
to   express. 

And  so,  we  say,  with  all  the  great  doctrines. 
It  is  not  that  the  present  movement  of  science 
and  criticism  will  operate  in  the  way  of 
diminishing  their  proportions  or  their  human 
value.  The  evolution  of  ideas  on  these  high 
subjects,  when  it  has  reached  its  term,  will 
have  had  the  effect  of  heightening  rather  than 
of  lowering  their  worth  and  sacredness.  For, 
let  us  remember,  the  symbol  is  ever  inferior 
to  the  thing  symbolised.  It  is  at  best  only  a 
rough  sketch  of  the  actual.  And  what  men 
have  laboriously  endeavoured  to  set  forth 
in  their  creeds  is  always  a  truth  immeasurably 
vaster  and  more  benign  than  their  presenta- 
tion of  it. 


34  The  Eternal  Religion. 

This  law  of  the  double,  indeed,  in  whatever 
direction  we  apply  it,  yields  ever  the  same 
result.  It  gives  a  new  meaning  not  only  to 
eternal  things,  not  only  to  ideas  and 
doctrines,  but  also  to  events.  Is  not 
the  fact,  the  happening  which  meets  us, 
often  so  grimly  visaged,  on  life's  road,  also  a 
symbol  ?  Have  we  done  with  it  when  we 
have  tasted  its  first  rough  impact  ?  Is  there 
not  something  behind,  a  spiritual  wedded  to 
this  visible  ?  The  great  souls  have  always 
believed  there  was,  and  so  have  been  fearless 
in  front  of  their  event.  What  a  word  is  that 
of  Ignatius  in  view  of  his  martyrdom  :  "  The 
wild  beasts  are  the  road  to  God."  To  other 
eyes  the  lions  that  awaited  him  in  the  arena 
were  just  forces  to  tear  and  slay.  To  his  eye 
they  were  the  way  to  the  Celestial  City.  And 
both  were  right;  only  the  martyr's  was  the 
rightest  right. 

We  ourselves,  as  we  stand  here  in  the 
world,  are  symbols.  Our  very  body  is  a 
sacred  mystery  hiding  immortal  things.  Its 
physical  beauty  is  nothing  but  a  hint  of  another 
beauty.  The  latest  investigation,  as  re- 
presented by  a  Delanne,  declares  the 
human  being  to  be  "a  psychic  form  which 
assimilates  matter  :  when  its  energy  is  ex- 
hausted it  assimilates  matter  no  longer,  and 
the  physical  body  is  disintegrated  and  the 
soul,   in   another  form,   pursues   its   career." 


Life  as  Symbol.  35 

However  that  may  be,  we  take  onr  "  here 
and  now  "  as  the  prophecy  of  a  greater  thing 
behind.    With  Tennyson,  we  hold  ourselves  as 

Not  only  cunning  casts  in  clay ; 
Let  science  prove  we  are,  and  then 
What  matters  science  unto  men, 

At  least  to  me  ?    I  would  not  stay. 

To  sum  up.  The  world  is  according  to 
the  eyes  with  which  we  view  it.  There  are 
men  who  find  it  nothing  but  a  market  in 
which  goods  are  bought  and  sold  ;  or  who, 
like  the  Catius  whom  Horace  satirises,  regard 
it  as  a  banqueting-place  where  gourmands 
may  feast.  But  these  people  are  not  built  high 
enough  to  see  over  a  five-foot  wall.  To  any- 
one who  has  reached  the  proper  human 
proportions,  the  world  opens  in  far  vaster 
perspectives.  He  realises  that  he  is  only  at 
the  beginning.  Amidst  all  uncertainties,  of 
this  he  is  sure,  that  the  ignoble,  the  frivolous, 
the  despairing  view  of  life,  is  a  false  one. 
He  is  inspired  with  the  belief  expressed  by 
the  greatest  and  most  Christian  of  our  English 
statesmen,  that  "  life  is  a  great  and  noble 
calling,  not  a  mean  and  grovelling  thing,  that 
we  are  to  struggle  through  as  we  can,  but  an 
elevated  and  lofty  destiny." 


V. 
The  War  of  Good  with  Qood. 

In  no  direction  has  the  present  interaction  of 
science  with  theology  shown  itself  more  im- 
pressively than  in  the  view  which  is  fast  taking 
possession  of  the  modern  mind  on  the  subject 
of  good  and  evil.  For  nearly  a  millennium 
and  a-half  Christendom  has  held  to  the 
Augustinian  view,  of  the  essential  and  eternal 
difference  between  these  two  things.  But 
to-day  Augustine's  empire  over  religious 
thought  is  trembling.  We  are  beginning  to 
see  in  how  many  directions  his  ideas  were 
coloured  more  by  his  early  Manicheeism  than 
by  the  Galilean  Gospel.  And  we  have  learned 
some  other  things  since  the  fifth  century. 
In  particular  the  doctrine  of  evolution  has 
changed  the  whole  standpoint  from  which  we 
look  over  the  ethical  field.  A  single  sentence 
of  John  Fiske's  gives  us  the  main  outlines  of 
the  new  position.  "  Theology,"  says  he,  "  has 
had  much  to  say  about  original  sin.  This 
original  sin  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  the 
brute   inheritance   which   every   man   carries 

36 


The  War  of  Good  with  Good.       37 

with  him,  and  the  process  of  evolution  is  an 
advance  towards  true  salvation." 

This  is  not  the  solitary  utterance  of  an 
isolated  thinker.  One  has  only  to  turn 
in  any  direction  of  serious  literature  to  realise 
how  profound  and  widespread  is  the  revolution 
of  thought  on  this  question.  Spinoza  is  at  the 
bottom  of  much  of  it.  His  declaration  that 
the  human  passions  are  not  defects,  and  his 
subtle  remark  that  "  we  have  not  so  much 
an  appetite  for  what  is  good,  as  that  we  deem 
a  thing  good  because  we  have  for  it  an  ap- 
petite," set  men's  minds  on  a  road  they  have 
been  travelling  ever  since.  Some  have  travelled 
it  to  strange  lengths.  In  America  Walt 
Whitman  preaches  "  there  is,  in  fact,  no  evil ; 
or,  if  there  is,  I  say  it  is  just  as  important  to 
you,  to  the  land,  or  to  me,  as  anything  else." 
From  the  Continent  comes  the  word  of 
Nietzsche  that  "  all  good  things  were  originally 
bad  things  ;  every  original  sin  has  developed 
into  an  original  virtue."  And  he  adds  in 
support  of  his  paradox  that  "  matrimony  for 
a  long  time  was  a  trespass  ;  a  fine  was  imposed 
for  the  presumption  of  claiming  a  woman  for 
oneself."  Finally,  from  a  German  Christian 
thinker,  G.  Prellnitz,  we  get  this  as  the 
ultimate  philosophy  :  "  Everything  inferior  is 
a  higher  in  the  making  ;  everything  hateful 
is  a  coming  beautiful ;  everything  evil  a 
coming  good." 


38  The  Eternal  Religion. 

Are  these  new  doctrines  ?  Not  entirely. 
In  one  aspect  they  appear,  indeed,  to  be  the 
echo  of  a  very  old  one.  We  seem,  in  fact,  to 
catch  here  the  notes  of  the  neo-Platonist 
teaching,  that  "  Evil  was  a  not-being,  the 
necessary  foil  of  the  good,  the  shadow  of  the 
light,"  an  essential  condition  of  finiteness. 
The  view  is  not  dissimilar  to  that  of  the 
Alexandrian  fathers  Clement  and  Origen,  who 
of  all  the  Christian  thinkers  of  the  time,  show 
the  greatest  breadth.  In  the  "  Stromata," 
Clement  declares  that  "  evil  is  involuntary, 
for  no  one  prefers  evil  as  evil."  And  he  goes 
still  further  with  the  remark,  "  that  nothing 
exists  the  cause  of  whose  existence  is  not 
supplied  by  God.  Nothing  then  is  hated  by 
God,  nor  yet  by  the  Word."  But  the  modern 
position,  while  not  without  resemblance  to  this 
earlier  one,  carries  in  it  a  distinct  difference! 
It  rests  on  another  basis.  The  Alexandrian 
theory  rested  largely  on  speculation ;  the 
modem  is  an  affair  rather  of  scientific  research. 
Our  view  is  ceasing  to  be  a  metaphysio.  It  is 
deriving  itself  rather  from  plain  facts. 

Let  us  see  in  one  or  two  particulars  how 
matters  stand.  What  is  now  dawning  upon 
us  is  that  the  story  of  good  and  evil  is  nothing 
else  than  the  story  of  human  progress.  What 
to  us  is  now  evil  was  an  earher  good.  It  was 
the  best  thing  known — until  something  better 
emerged  which  put  a  shade   upon  it.     The 


The  War  of  Good  with  Good.       39 

war,  we  see,  has  always  been  not  so  much  of 
good  with  evil,  as  of  good  with  good  ;  or  rather 
of  good  with  better.  There  was  a  time  when 
the  primitive  instincts  were  the  only  incentive. 
There  was  nothing  beyond  them.  A  tiger's 
theory  of  morals  is  to  get  its  hunger  satisfied. 
There  was  a  stage  of  the  human  story  in 
which  that  was  highest.  St.  Paul  strikes 
at  once  the  history  and  the  philosophy  here 
in  his  deep  remark  that  "  with  the  law  is 
the  knowledge  of  sin."  It  was  when  some- 
thing higher  came  into  the  consciousness, 
that  the  old  good  became  the  new  bad.  And 
the  whole  fight  and  struggle  of  the  world 
ever  since  has  been  between  these  two  things, 
the  fight  has  been  always  between  the  inferior 
and  the  superior  good.  In  this  view  the 
saying  of  our  German,  that  "  everything  evil 
is  a  coming  good,"  is  a  reversal  of  the  order. 
Rather  should  it  be  said  that  evil  is  an  old 
decrepit  good,  a  good  outgrown,  outworn 
and  left  behind  in  the  upward  march.  When 
we  sin  we  are  simply  falling  back  upon  an 
earlier  ideal,  that  of  the  prehistoric  savage. 
We  are  deserting  from  the  foremost  files. 
From  life's  university  we  have  come  back  to 
the  dame  school. 

This  struggle  between  the  different  goods 
is,  we  say,  perpetually  going  on,  and  there 
is  nothing  so  interesting  as  to  watch  its  phases. 
Often  we  discern  the  clash  of  the  two,  which 


40  The  Eternal  Religion. 

becomes   eventually   a  fusion  into   a  higher 
third.     A    notable    instance    is    that    conflict 
between  head  and  heart  which  came  with  the 
Christian   Gospel.     It   has   been   a   favourite 
reproach  of  opponents  that  the  introduction 
of  Christianity  meant  the  eclipse  and  loss  of 
what  Greece  had  taught  the  world.     We  are 
pointed   to   the  fact  that   the   early   Church 
tabooed  art ;  that  the  decrees  of  its  councils 
destroyed   the   freedom   of   human  thought ; 
that,   in   short,    the   Christian   ecclesiasticism 
was  the  greatest  of  set-backs  to  intellectual 
progress.     It  is  often  forgotten  in  this  indict- 
ment that  what  is  here  charged  to  the  Church's 
account  does  not  belong  to  it  at  all.     It  was 
not  the  religious  question,  but  the  break-up  of 
the  empire  by  the  invasion  of  the  Northern 
barbarians  that  plunged  Europe  into  darkness. 
But,  waiving  that  point,  and  recognising,  as 
we  must,  that  the  Church  teaching  left  one 
side,  and  that  not  the  lowest,  of  human  develop- 
ment  almost  untouched,  to   what,  after  all, 
does  this  amount  ?     Have  we  not  to  recognise 
here  simply  the  first  stage,  which  is  usually 
a  warring  stage,  in  the  relation  of  two  ideals, 
each  necessary  to  the  world,  to  be  followed 
by  their  union  in  that  glorious  synthesis  in 
which  heart   and  head  shall   each  perfectly 
minister   to   the   other  ?     M.    Villemam,    the 
eminent  historian,  in  discussing  this  question, 
has  touched  its  centre  in  the  remark  that  "  it 


The  War  of  Good  with  Good.       41 

is  a  moral  progress  which  Christianity  brought 
into  the  world — a  progress  of  grief  over  oneself 
and  of  charity  for  others.  The  heart  of  man 
has  gained  more  in  this  discipline  than  its 
imagination  has  suffered." 

Another  phase  of  this  war  of  good  with  good 
has  been  the  age-long  conflict  between  Hberty 
and  order.  Order,  we  say,  is  heaven's  first 
law.  It  is  the  foundation  of  states,  a  first 
condition  of  prosperity,  an  imperative  of 
Church  and  social  life.  And  yet  history  is  a 
record  of  the  continual  breaking  up  of  order, 
and  that  by  the  best  men.  Against  this  good 
fights  another  good,  in  battles  that  have  often 
been  bloody  and  terrible.  It  is  the  good  of  a 
larger  Hberty  to  which  this  other  is  barring 
the  way.  The  new  good  in  the  end  beats  the 
old,  but  always  at  a  price.  Protestants  and 
progressives  generally  recognise  the  Reforma- 
tion as  a  mighty  stroke  for  the  soul's  freedom  ; 
but  the  old  order  it  broke  in  upon  had  a 
revenge  of  its  own.  The  Reformation  was  not 
all  gain.  There  were  times  when  Luther 
and  Calvin  despaired  of  their  work,  and  of  the 
new  world  it  had  brought.  The  doings  of  the 
Miinster  Anabaptists,  the  Peasants'  War,  the 
queer  interpretations  of  rehgion  of  some  of  the 
emancipated  princes,  formed  part  of  the  heavy 
bill  of  costs  which  order  presented  to  the 
Reformers  as  its  price  for  breakages. 
England  had  the  same  story  to  tell.   Let  any- 

4 


42  The  Eternal  Religion. 


one  read  the  state  of  affairs  during  the  Somerset 
protectorate,  when  the  Universities  were 
called  "  the  stables  of  asses,  stews  and  schools 
of  the  devil,"  when  young  gallants  rode  their 
horses  through  the  aisles  of  St.  Paul's,  when, 
as  Froude  has  it,  "  hospitals  were  gone,  schools 
broken  up,  almshouses  swept  away,  and  when 
the  poor,  smarting  with  rage  and  suffering, 
and  seeing  piety,  honesty,  duty  trampled  under 
foot  by  their  superiors,  were  sinking  into 
savages."  It  is  a  gloomy  story  enough ; 
and  yet  this  was  the  way  along  which  the 
two  goods,  order  and  hberty,  were  to  travel, 
and  are  still  travelling,  until  they  understand 
each  other  better,  and  unite  into  something 
ampler  and  purer  than  either  has  known 
hitherto. 

Nearly  all  the  difficulties,  both  of  yesterday 
and  to-day,  have  come  from  the  inability  of 
one  good  to  recognise  another.  It  has  been 
so  much  easier  to  call  names.  The  opposite 
side  has  stood  for  wickedness,  or  foolery,  or 
both.  Whereas  the  men  on  each  side  have 
been  following  the  best  they  knew.  When 
Diderot  and  his  fellow  Encyclopaedists 
denounced  Christianity  as  fuU  of  superstitions 
and  impossible  doctrines,  their  writings  were 
tabooed  by  all  good  CathoUcs  as  of  the  devil. 
What  we  now  see  is  that  each  side  stood 
for  a  right  whose  victory  is  to-day  one  of 
civilisation's  most  valuable  assets.     The  libres 


The  War  of  Good  with  Good.       43 

penseurs  of  the  eighteenth  century  strove 
for  the  freedom  of  investigation.  The  system 
they  fought  was  greatly  in  need  of  being 
fought.  It  was,  indeed,  stujBfed  with  super- 
stitions and  impossible  beliefs.  The  real 
Christianity  behind  that  system  is  a  good 
that  these  attacks  never  touched.  In  the  end 
the  heart's  devotion  and  the  mind's  freedom 
will  know  each  other  as  of  the  same  stock  and 
quality. 

An  illustration  still  more  to  the  point,  since 
the  question  in  it  presses  us  with  special 
insistence  to-day,  is  the  matter  of  religion 
and  amusement.  There  has  been  a  long  fight 
between  the  Church  and  the  drama, 
between  the  Church  and  the  saloon.  It  has 
been  regarded  as  a  battle  between  good  and 
evil,  between  God  and  Satan.  The  fathers 
anathematised  the  pagan  drama,  and  we 
remember,  in  later  times,  that  terrible  denun- 
ciation of  Bossuet,  where,  in  his  "  Maximessur 
la  Comedie,"  speaking  of  Moliere's  last  hours, 
he  says  :  "  He  passed  from  the  pleasantries 
of  the  theatre,  among  which  he  rendered 
almost  his  last  sigh,  to  the  presence  of  Him 
who  said :  '  Woe  to  you  who  laugh  now, 
for  you  shaU  weep.'  "  Is  this  to  be  the  per- 
manent attitude  of  Christian  men  ?  What 
in  its  essence  is  the  drama  ?  If  it  be  evil, 
then  life  is  evil,  for  it  is  the  representation  of 
life.     All  children  are  evil,  for  all  children  are 


44  The  Eteenal  Religion. 

actors.  The  drama  is  the  human  story, 
embeUished  by  light,  colour,  music,  painting. 
The  great  preachers  are  actors.  The  pulpit 
has  often  enough  been  a  stage,  and  with 
excellent  result.  In  the  miracle  plays  of  the 
Middle  Ages  the  Gospel  was  acted  more 
effectively  than  it  had  often  been  preached. 
And  the  inn,  the  saloon,  do  these  in  their 
idea  represent  simply  an  evil  ?  They  are 
the  drawing-room,  the  fireside  of  the  working 
man,  the  caterers  for  his  social  nature. 

The  only  rational  position  of  the  Church 
to  these  sides  of  life  is  that  of  a  good  relating 
itself  properly  to  another  good.  Between 
goods  there  must  be  not  opposition,  but 
co-operation.  But  the  higher  here  must 
teach  and  lead  the  lower.  The  brightness, 
the  movement,  the  colour,  the  humour, 
the  human  interest  represented  alike  in  the 
theatre  and  in  the  public-house  are  to  be 
taken  into  the  Church's  scheme  for  the  highest 
furtherance  of  life.  For  these  are  all  of  the 
assets  of  humanity,  elements  in  its  social 
evolution.  The  problems  connected  with  them 
are  so  to  be  dealt  with  as  to  ehminate  the 
baser  elements  ;  the  remains  of  a  time  when 
the  sensual  and  the  animal  were  man's  highest 
good. 

These  are  illustrations  of  a  theme  which, 
in  its  entirety,  offers  a  new  and  fascinating 
outlook  upon  the  future.     For  it  shows   us 


The  War  of  Good  with  Good.       45 

how  the  very  problems  of  evil  are  really 
the  marks  of  an  eternal  progress  ;  how  man's 
very  consciousness  as  a  sinner  is  the  evidence 
of  a  movement  towards  an  infinitely  glorious 
ideal  yet  to  be  realised  in  him. 


VI. 

The  Systems,  and  Man. 

Civilisation  might,  in  general  terms,  be 
described  as  a  move  from  the  open  country  to 
the  town.  Man  had  reached  a  certain  stage 
of  development  when  he  roofed  himself  in, 
and  a  further  one  when  he  learned  to  join 
his  particular  roof  to  that  of  a  neighbour. 
And  this,  let  it  be  noted,  is  true  of  his  inner 
as  well  as  of  his  outer  Hfe.  The  great  religious 
systems  which  we  find  covering  the  world  are 
the  several  roofs  which  have  been  constructed 
to  shelter  the  soul  from  the  waste,  dread 
infinity  around  it.  The  eternal  religion  has  a 
relation  to  these  systems  which  we  are  bound 
to  take  note  of.  Every  tribe  dwells  under  its 
roof.  Buddhism,  Confucianism,  Brahminism, 
Mohammedanism,  Christianity — we  see  these 
huge  structures  lifting  their  domes  over  their 
several  millions  ;  their  foundations  deep  in 
history,  deeper  still  in  human  aspiration,  fear 
and  hope.  And  underneath  each  main  dome 
are  myriad  minor  structures.  Our  British 
Christianity,  to  come  close  home,  is  a  street 

46 


The  Systems,  and  Man.  47 


of  separate  buildings,  each  walled  off  from 
the  others,  and  constructed  after  its  own 
special  design.  Episcopalian,  Presbyterian, 
Methodist,  Independent,  each  has  laboured  with 
prodigious  industry  to  make  his  building 
complete  and  to  make  it  lasting. 

Everywhere,  we  say,  these  thought-structures 
have  been  thrown  up  by  humanity,  and  every- 
where they  have  been  by  their  inhabitants 
declared  to  be  complete  and  final.     To  suspect 
otherwise  has  been  held  as  high  treason  to  the 
soul.     To  an  outside  observer  it  would  indeed 
appear  to  be  one  of  the  most  singular  and 
pathetic  things  about  man,  this  notion  of  the 
finahty  of  his  system.     For  what  is  evident 
is  that  not  one  of  these  structures  is  stable. 
To  keep  to  our  own  country  and  faith,  let 
anyone  compare  the  religious  ideas  of  only 
fifty  years  ago,  taken  from  any  one  of  the 
denominations,   with  the  ideas  in  the  same 
rehgious    bodies    of    to-day.     He    will    find 
himself    in    another    universe.     The    pulpits 
everywhere  have  been  tuned  to   a  different 
note.     The  creeds  and  formularies  in  use  may 
be,    as   to   words,    the   same ;     but   oh !     the 
difference    of    interpretation !     The    thought- 
structure  has,  in  fact,  been  re- windowed,  with 
an  outlook  over  a  new  world. 

The  phenomenon  thus  presented  is  indeed 
singular.  The  spectacle  is  of  man  in  incessant 
rebeUion  against  himself.    The  system-maker 


48  The  Eternal  Religion. 

is  by  an  equal  necessity  the  system-destroyer. 
By  an  imperious  law  of  his  being  man  over- 
turns all  that  he  creates.  We  are  at  last 
beginning  to  understand  why  this  is.  When 
the  lesson  has  been  completely  learned  the 
revolt  of  one  part  of  us  against  the  other  will 
cease.  What  is  the  fact  ?  It  is  simply  that 
there  can  be  no  permanence  for  man  in  any 
of  his  systems,  and  that  because  change  is  the 
law  of  his  own  being.  He  is  the  eternal 
changer.  That,  however,  fortunately,  is  not 
the  whole.  It  is  not  mere  wreckage  that  he 
indulges  in.  His  creeds,  his  constitutions, 
incessantly  crack  and  fall  around  him,  because 
he,  the  indweller,  is  ever  getting  bigger.  And 
the  growing  nature  must,  as  part  of  the 
process,  continually  cast  its  old  shell.  The 
secret  at  his  centre,  which  explains  all,  is  that 
man  is  not  a  Being  so  much  as  an  eternal 
Becoming,  a  passage  always  from  one  stage 
to  another.  And  because  of  this  no  externality 
can  be  final  for  him.  It  stands,  but  he  moves. 
And  the  thing  that  stands  is  bound  to  be  left 
behind  by  the  thing  that  moves. 

It  is  noteworthy,  and  supremely  interesting, 
to  observe  how  this  law  has  operated  in  religious 
history.  There  is  no  single  century  or  spiritual 
condition  in  which  we  do  not  find  it  at  work. 
We  see  ages  where,  to  the  superficial  view, 
everything  has  been  regarded  as  fixed,  where 
the  weight  of  authority  seemed  overwhelming. 


The  Systems,  and  Man.  49 

where  the  existing  creeds  were  taken  as  the 
absolute  and  ultimate  truth.  We  look  deeper 
into  those  times,  and  what  do  we  find  ?  Every- 
where our  law  of  movement  ;  everywhere 
the  human  spirit,  standing  over  against 
the  systems,  questioning,  measuring  itself 
against  them,  and  knowing  in  its  deepest 
seK  that  it  is  greater  than  they.  How  wonder- 
ful its  uprise  against  the  strongest  assertions 
of  authority,  when  these  came  across  its  own 
unwritten  laws  !  That  old  Frisian  king  who, 
with  one  foot  in  the  baptismal  font,  drew  it 
back  when  the  missionary  told  him  that  in 
Paradise  he  would  not  meet  his  noble  ancestors, 
was  acting  from  an  authority  higher  and 
mightier  than  that  of  his  teacher. 

We  talk  of  the  Middle  Ages  as  illustrations 
of  a  fixed  orthodoxy.  Protestants  are  apt  to 
think  of  them  as  a  cast-iron  period,  fast  bound 
under  the  Roman  yoke,  and  having  no  afiinity 
with  their  own  spirit.  We  have  only  to  look 
into  them  to  discover  their  mistake.  There  is, 
to  take  one  illustration,  perhaps  nothing  more 
wonderful  in  the  history  of  Christianity  than 
the  life  and  literature  of  the  thirteenth  century. 
What  an  age,  which  produced  a  Dante,  a 
Dominic,  a  Francis,  an  Aquinas,  a  Bona- 
ventura  !  The  astonishing  thing  about  it  is 
its  perfect  freedom.  Despite  creeds,  popes 
and  canons,  men  said  the  thing  that  was  in 
them  to  say.     And  the  thing  was  often  so 


60  The  Eternal  Religion. 

astoundingly  daring.  Francis  of  Assisi,  the 
man  probably  of  all  ages  who  most  resembled 
Jesus,  calls  and  believes  himself  a  Roman 
Catholic.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  is  free  of  all 
theology.  His  mind  is  far  away  from  the 
systems.  He  is  no  theologian,  but  a  simple 
Christian  man,  living  in  his  world  as  freely 
and  joyously  as  the  birds  he  loved  so  well. 
His  thought,  if  you  could  give  it  a  name, 
is  a  kind  of  Christian  pantheism,  where  fire, 
wind  and  sun  are  his  "  brothers  "  and  death  is 
his  '*  sister."  His  "  Hymn  of  the  Creatures  " 
is  the  exultant  song  of  a  beautiful,  emancipated 
soul  that,  having  nothing,  possesses  all  things. 
When  we  look  more  closely  into  that  century 
we  discern  how  innumerable  less-known  men, 
the  best  religious  spirits  of  the  age,  were  on 
the  same  track,  expressing  to  the  full,  in  face 
of  the  dogmatic  systems,  the  rights  of  the 
human  spirit.  What  a  phenomenon  for  us 
that  thirteenth-century  preaching  of  "  The 
Eternal  Gospel,"  a  watchword  which  fired 
humble  souls  all  over  Europe,  and  whose 
message  was,  not  a  laudation  of  popes  or 
councils,  but  a  declaration  of  doom  against 
the  corruption  in  high  places  and  of  a  coming 
new  kingdom  of  righteousness  !  Has  anything 
bolder  been  uttered  in  the  Church's  history 
than  those  manifestoes  of  a  Joachim  di  Flor, 
the  Cistercian  Abbot  of  Perugia,  and  of  a 
John  of  Parma,  his  follower,  wherein,  voicing 


The  Systems,  and  Man.  51 


the  dumb  aspiration  of  patient  watchers 
throughout  Christendom,  they  proclaimed  the 
swift  approaching  downfall  of  the  visible 
Church,  with  all  its  pomp,  and  the  inauguration 
of  the  reign  of  the  Spirit  ? 

Every  century,  we  say,  exhibits  the  same 
phenomenon  ;  on  one  side  the  visible  system, 
founded  on  the  past,  and  buttressed  by 
authority,  and  on  the  other  the  live  human 
soul  seeking  ever  to  pull  down  these  barns  and 
to  build  greater.  Always  is  heard,  too,  the 
protest  against  this  demolition,  a  protest 
which  rings  especially  loud  in  our  own  time. 
And  the  protest  often  seems  well  founded. 
Our  system,  cries  theology,  is  stable,  and  that 
because  it  is  founded,  not  on  the  shifting  sand 
of  conjecture,  but  on  the  rock  of  fact.  Granted 
the  restless  movement  of  man's  mind  and  its 
destructive  power.  But  it  cannot  sweep 
away  rock.  Facts  are  our  foundation  just  as 
much  as  they  are  the  foundation  of  science, 
and  a  system  so  founded  can  never  fall.  But 
in  so  stating  its  case  theology  has  touched, 
perhaps  unwittingly,  the  very  centre  of  our 
problem.  It  is  precisely  on  this  question  of 
fact  that  the  whole  thing  hinges.  What  we 
have  to  note  here,  and  which  so  many  of  us 
have  failed  to  note,  is  that  the  fact  itself,  as 
related  to  the  human  spirit,  is  never  stationary. 
It  changes  as  we  change.  The  stars  were  one 
thing  to  the  men  of  the  first  century.     They 


52  The  Eternal  Religion. 

are  quite  other  things  to  us.  As  the  mind 
opens  our  fact  opens,  and  is  ever  disclosing 
new  secrets. 

It  is  on  the  mental  condition  in  which  earlier 
men  approached  their  fact — what  they  made 
of  it — that  the  value  of  their  testimony,  as 
authorities  for  us,  depends.  Often  enough  its 
value  was  small.  The  majority  of  people  even 
to-day  cannot  see  the  thing  that  is  before  them, 
cannot  properly  and  scientifically  see  it. 
What,  then,  of  onlookers  a  thousand  years  ago  ? 
Hiouen  Thsang,  the  old  Chinese  Buddhist,  in 
his  account  of  his  famous  pilgrimage  to  India, 
solemnly  declares,  as  an  eyewitness,  that  the 
footprints  of  Buddha  seem  of  more  or  less  size 
according  to  the  greater  or  less  faith  of  the 
beholder.  In  describing  the  relics  he  says  of 
one  after  another  of  them,  "  The  persons  who 
worship  it  with  sincere  faith  see  it  surrounded 
with  luminous  rays."  And  if  the  multitude 
of  reporters  of  what  is  before  their  eyes  are 
so  untrustworthy,  what  of  the  generation  that 
receives  its  account  from  them  ?  Buddhism 
is  for  us  a  wonderfully  instructive  study  on 
this  matter.  When  we  study  the  accounts 
of  Buddha  in  the  simple  Sutras  of  the  South, 
as  compared  with  the  developed  Sutras  of  the 
North,  we  see  as  in  a  flash  how  a  plain  story  in 
the  hands  of  simple  people  becomes  a  miracle- 
studded  legend.  The  story  of  St.  Francis  is 
Christendom's    exact    parallel.     As    told    by 


The  Systems,  and  Man.  53 

Frater  Leo,  his  contemporary,  it  is  a  bit  of 
history.  As  given,  in  the  same  century,  by  a 
Bonaventura,  it  is  a  tissue  of  impossible 
miracles.  When,  then,  we  talk  of  founding 
our  system  upon  fact,  the  questions  imme- 
diately arise,  "  How  much  do  we  know  of 
our  fact  ?  With  what  eyes  have  we  or  our 
ancestors  viewed  it  ?  How  much  of  its 
innermost  secret  lies  yet  unveiled  ?  " 

From  a  study  of  this  kind  some  conclusions 
emerge  which  none  of  us  may  neglect.  One  is 
the  supremacy  of  personality.  Greater  than 
all  his  past  work,  as  it  stands  there  in  sciences, 
theologies,  churches,  is  the  worker  himself. 
You  talk  of  revelation  !  Here,  man,  did  you 
but  know  it,  in  your  own  living  soul,  is  the  very 
tissue  of  revelation,  the  treasure-house  out 
of  which  it  all  has  come  !  And  yet  it  is  not 
you,  but  the  Something  within  and  behind, 
that  is  greatest  of  all.  For  you  are  ever  the 
Eternal  coming  into  time,  and  by  your  growing 
spirit  making  HimseK  visible  and  giving 
Himself  speech.  This  is  above  all  things  the 
lesson  of  Christianity.  It  is  throughout  the 
story  of  victorious  personality.  Jesus  con- 
quered the  world,  not  so  much  by  what  He 
said,  divine  as  that  is,  but  by  what  He  was. 
The  Greek  and  Eastern  philosophers  had 
uttered  beforehand  almost  all  His  teachings, 
but  He  exhibited  to  men  a  soul  greater  than 
all  teachings,  a  soul  whose  divine  sweetness 


54  The  Eternal  Religion. 

and  power  have  been  the  main  human  uplift 
through  all  these  later  ages. 

If  such  be  the  place  and  work  of  the  human 
spirit,  what  kind  of  life  should  we,  its  possessors, 
be  living  in  this  world  ?  Our  business,  it 
seems,  is  that  God  may  more  and  more  utter 
Himself  through  us.  The  deeper  we  descend 
into  ourselves  the  surer  do  we  become  of  this  ; 
the  clearer  the  signs  of  a  Divinity  that  is 
within,  beneath,  behind  us.  The  days  and 
the  years  are  for  the  weaving  of  that  Divine 
into  speech  and  act.  We  are  here  to  help 
on  the  ever-growing  kingdom,  nothing  less  or 
other.  In  the  words  of  Professor  Royce,  who 
in  his  deep,  philosophic  way  sums  up  thus  the 
aim  of  our  human  striving  :  "  When  I  seek 
my  own  goal  I  am  seeking  for  the  whole  of 
myself.  In  so  far  as  my  aim  is  the  absolute 
completion  of  my  selfhood,  my  goal  is  identical 
with  the  whole  life  of  God." 


VII. 
The  Eternal  Gospel. 

Within  the  circle  of  modern  Christianity 
two  movements  are  going  on  before  our  eyes, 
each  of  extraordinary  interest,  and  each  re- 
lated in  the  most  vital  manner  to  the  other. 
On  the  one  hand  we  see  an  evangelistic  Chris- 
tianity putting  forth  its  strength,  and  achiev- 
ing the  old  triumphs  over  the  human  con- 
science and  will.  But  behind  this  activity 
and  emotion  there  has  been  going  on  a  ceaseless 
mental  movement,  which  is  carrying  us  far. 
Men  are  praying  and  working  with  a  new 
enthusiasm.  Into  religion's  open  door  new 
converts  are  flocking.  But  the  region  they 
enter  is  not  entirely  the  same  as  that  our 
fathers  knew.  It  has  some  new  features.  It 
is  a  broader,  roomier  realm,  with  a  fresher  air 
and  a  vaster  prospect.  In  short,  what  has 
been  going  on  may  be  described  as  at  once  a 
reinforcement  and  a  reconstruction  of  the 
Christian  idea.  It  is  to  this  latter  movement 
we  wish  here  specially  to  give  attention.  We 
propose  to  point  out,  in  certain  definite^  re- 

55 


66  The  Eternal  Religion. 

spects,  how  modern  research  and  what  has 
been  called  "  the  irresistible  maturing  of  the 
human  mind  "  have  acted  upon  our  present- 
day  view  of  the  Christian  Gospel. 

The  doctrine  in  which  people  now  middle- 
aged  were  brought  up  was  that  of  a  Chris- 
tianity which  stood  out  from  all  other  faiths  as 
the  one  true  religion  amongst  a  multitude  of 
false  ones.     According  to  it  the  outside  world 
was  in  absolute  darkness.     Even  to-day  the 
word   "  heathen  "  carries  the  idea  of  realms 
which  are  practically  God-forsaken.      Against 
this   outer   desolation   Christianity,   with    its 
doctrines  of  Incarnation,   of  Divine  Sonship, 
of  Atonement,  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;    with  its 
sacred    institutions,    with    its    immortal    life 
behind,  stood  out  as  separate,  distinct,  divided 
by  an  impassable  gulf.     The  difference  was 
that  between  midday  and  midnight,  between 
truth  and  falsehood,   between  God  and  the 
devil.     This    view    was    the    foundation    of 
divinity  systems,  the  staple  of  sermons,  the 
motive  of  missions.     How  does  it  look  now  ? 
There  has  been  an  immense  revulsion,  and 
one  of  the  features  of  it  is  the  discovery,  so 
vastly  surprising  to  the  average  man^  that  the 
doctrine  he  was  brought  up  on  was  not  the 
earHer  Christian  teaching  at  all.     The  noblest 
of  the  old  apologists  thought  very  differently, 
he  finds,  of  the  outside  races  and  faiths,  from 
what  he  had  been  led  to  imagine.     He  hears 


The  Etebnal  Gospel.  67 

of  Justin  MsiTtyr,  standing  so  close  to  the 
apostolic  age,  who  regards  the  wisdom  of 
Socrates  as  inspired  by  the  "  Word "  ;  of 
Origen,  and  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  whose  teaching 
is  of  the  entire  race  of  man  as  under  the  Divine 
tutorship ;  of  Lactantius  maintaining  that 
belief  in  Providence  was  the  common  property 
of  all  religions.  In  later  days  he  notes  Eras- 
mus, with  his  proposition  to  canonise  Virgil  and 
to  bring  "  Saint  Socrates  "  into  the  Litany. 
The  finer  Christian  minds  have,  in  fact,  in 
every  age  gone  more  or  less  along  this  line. 
It  needed  only  that  men  should  come  into 
contact  with  these  outside  races,  whether  in 
their  literature  or  face  to  face,  to  reahse  at 
once  that  the  "  impassable  gulf  "  theory  be- 
tween one  religion  and  another  was  false  to 
life  and  to  the  soul.  How  otherwise  ?  Could 
it  be  a  Christian  thought  that  those  vast  popu- 
lations, succeeding  each  other  through  cen- 
turies and  millenniums,  all  of  them,  as  we 
come  to  know  them,  eager  as  ourselves  to  solve 
the  problem  of  life  ;  all,  like  ourselves,  sinning, 
suffering,  repenting,  and  boundlessly  aspiring  ; 
could  it  be  possible,  if  a  God  were  in  heaven, 
that  these  should  be  without  a  teaching,  a 
leading,  a  consolation,  a  preparation  for  death 
and  after  ? 

The  view  which,  from  the  beginning,  was 
impossible  to  the  heart  has  now  become  im- 
possible   to    the    intellect.    Christianity    has 


68  The  Eternal  Religion. 

to-day  fallen  into  line.  Its  position  has  become 
assured  in  a  new  way,  by  the  discovery  of  its 
marvellous  relation  to  the  faiths  that  have 
gone  before,  and  that  have  lived  alongside  it. 
The  first  and  last,  the  eternal  religion,  the 
crown  of  all,  it  is  at  the  same  time  seen  as  akin 
to  all.  The  famous  saying  of  Augustine  that 
the  Christian  faith  is  that  which  has  been  in 
the  world  from  the  beginning  has  received 
confirmation  in  a  way  that  would  have  sur- 
prised himself.  What  we  have  now  to  rejoice 
in  is  the  truth,  established  in  a  thousand  ways, 
that  the  great  doctrines  and  institutions  of  the 
Gospel  are  the  highest  forms  of  a  doctrine  and 
an  institution  that  the  race  of  man  has  been 
trained  in  through  all  its  history.  God  has 
been  teaching  His  child  everyivhere  the  same 
truths  and  in  the  same  way.  Religion,  by  a 
hundred  different  names  and  forms,  has  been 
dropping  the  one  seed  into  the  human  heart, 
opening  the  one  truth  as  the  mind  was  able 
to  receive  it.  We  may  trace  the  process  now 
in  one  or  two  particulars. 

We  spoke  just  now  of  what  are  called  the 
distinctive  doctrines  of  Christianity — of  In- 
carnation, of  Divine  Sonship,  of  Atonement, 
of  the  Holy  Spirit.  In  an  earlier  chapter  we 
dealt  with  the  symbolic  character  of  these 
doctrines.  But  there  is  now  something 
else  to  say.  It  is  when  we  come  to 
inquire  how  these  doctrines  arose  and  took 


The  Eternal  Gospel.  59 

their  present  shape,  that  we  strike  upon  what 
we   may   call  the   essential   solidarity   of   the 
great  world-religions — their  kinship  and  unity 
of   meaning.     The   Gospel   we   have   received 
centres  round  the  person  and  work  of  Christ, 
as  these  are  described  for  us  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament.    But  has  it  ever  occurred  to  us  to 
ask  how  these  descriptions  came  into  exist- 
ence  there  ?     Here   we   come   on   a   marvel 
The  New  Testament  is  a  world's  book,  not  only 
because  it  is  for  the  world,  but  also  because 
the  whole  world  joined  in  the  making  of  it. 
We  find  that  the  personality  of  Jesus  has  been 
here  fitted  into  a  framework  which  all  the 
ages  and  all  the  earlier  faiths  had  united  to 
prepare.     New  Testament  Christianity  is,  in 
this  way,  the  product  not  simply  of  the  first 
Christian  century,   and  of  the   Galilean  dis- 
ciples.    It    had    the    entire    human    race    as 
collaborator. 

The  language,  for  instance,  in  which  Christ 
is  described  was  all  there,  ready  made.  As 
Wernle  puts  it  :  "  The  early  Christians  ex- 
perienced something  altogether  abnormal  in 
Jesus,  but  their  own  words  fail  to  express  it. 
So  they  turn  to  the  Jewish  categories  nearest 
at  hand  and  attempt  to  confine  the  indefinable 
within  these  definitions.'*  And  what  were 
these  "  Jewish  categories  "  ?  When,  in  the 
Epistle  to  the  Colossians,  we  read  of  Christ  as 
"the  Son,"   as   "the  image  of  the  invisible 


60  The  Eternal  Religion. 

God,"  as  "  the  first-born  of  every  creature," 
we  ask,  where  did  these  ideas  come  from  ? 
Did  they  spring  to  birth  at  the  moment  by  a 
special  inspiration  in  the  mind  of  the  writer  ? 
Was  that  the  way  also  in  which  the  prologue 
to  the  fourth  Gospel  was  written,  in  which 
we  have  the  doctrine  of  the  eternal  Word, 
the  Logos,  who  was  "  with  God,  and  was  God, 
by  whom  all  things  were  made  "  ?  By  no 
means.  These  thought-forms,  in  which  the 
New  Testament  writers  clothed  the  personaHty 
of  Jesus,  were  already  there  awaiting  their  use. 
Judaism  was  full  of  them.  Philo  of  Alexan- 
dria, in  his  "  Dc  Monarchid,^^  had  already 
written  of  the  Logos  as  '*  the  Word,  by  which 
the  world  was  made,"  as  "  the  image  of  the 
supreme  Deity,"  as  "  His  first  begotten  Son," 
as  "an  Intercessor  between  the  Creator  and 
the  created."  And  that  "  Book  of  Enoch  " 
which  had  been  for  a  century  the  nurture  of 
pious  Jews  had  taught  the  doctrine  of  a 
Messiah  who  was  "  the  Chosen  One,"  the 
"  Son  of  Man  who  was  hidden  with  God  before 
the  world  was,  whose  dominion  endureth  from 
eternity  to  eternity." 

And  that  true  religion  meant  incarnation, 
the  himibling  of  Godhead  into  humanity  was 
a  view  also  which  Christianity,  as  it  formulated 
its  doctrine,  found  everywhere  already  ac- 
cepted amongst  men.  It  was  the  doctrine  of 
Brahminism,  of  Buddhism,  of  the  Zend  Avesta, 


The  Eternal  Gospel.  61 

of  the  Greek  mythology.     In  the  Empire  where 
Christianity  was  bom  the  idea  had  lowered 
itself  to  the  gross  and  commonplace  form  of 
the  cult  of  the  Emperor  as  divine.     At  Hahcar- 
nassus  was  to  be  seen  the  inscription  to  Augus- 
tus which  proclaimed  him  "  the  paternal  Zeus 
and  saviour  of  the  whole  race  of  mankind." 
And  as  with  Incarnation  so  with  sacrifice  and 
Atonement.     The  doctrine  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment— in  the   Gospels,   in   the   Acts,   in   the 
Epistles — is  above  all  things  a  doctrine  of  the 
Cross,   of  sacrifice,   of  redemption  by  blood. 
How  did  it  get  there  ?     The  tragedy  on  Cal- 
vary had,  in  the  minds  of  the  disciples  who 
looked  upon  it,  no  connection  with  this  doc- 
trine.    What  they  saw  was  only  a  brutal  doing 
to  death,  a  catastrophe,  the  ruin  of  all  their 
hopes.     The  Gospel  narratives  are  at  one  in 
this  testimony.     But  as  time  passed,  to  that 
first  idea  of  helpless  suffering  and  dying  came 
another.     By  a  psychological  process,  which 
was  as  inevitable  as  it  was  natural,  the  dying 
of  Jesus  took  on  the  clothing  woven  for  it  by 
long     centuries     of     Judaic     teaching    and 
ceremony.     "Here,"  they  now  realised,  "was 
the  culmination  of  the  long  ages  of  sacrifice 
and  of  rehgious  blood-shedding."     And  so  the 
doctrine  was  born. 

And  as  with  the  doctrine,  so  with  the  insti- 
tutions in  which  the  doctrines  were  enshrined. 
Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper  are  held  as 


62  The  Eternal  Religion. 

distinctive  Christian  rites,  but  they  are  kin  with 
religious  mysteries  that  have  been  celebrated 
the  world  over  and  the  ages  through.  Scholars 
have  been  recently  studying  the  Eleusinian 
mysteries  in  their  relation  to  the  Christian 
cult.  Here,  as  well  as  in  the  Church,  are  bap- 
tism, penitence,  a  sacred  communion  of  bread 
and  wine,  and  a  special  teaching  for  the  initiate. 
How  marvellous,  too,  in  this  connection,  is 
that  ancient  cult  of  Mithras  in  Persia,  where, 
as  M.  Cumont  says  :  *'  Like  the  Christians,  the 
followers  of  Mithras  lived  in  closely  united 
societies,  calling  one  another  father  and 
brother  ;  like  the  Christians,  they  practised 
baptism,  communion  and  confirmation  ;  taught 
an  authoritative  morality,  preached  conti- 
nence, chastity  and  self-denial,  believed  in  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  and  the  resurrection 
of  the  dead."  Does  not  our  heart  thrill  with 
sympathy  for  these  souls  of  the  far-off  time 
who  also  yearned,  as  we  do,  for  the  Good  ! 
Here  is  one  of  their  prayers — we  copy  from 
Dieterich's  Mithrasliturgie — offered  by  a  bap- 
tized initiate  :  "If  it  hath  pleased  you  to 
grant  me  the  birth  to  immortaUty,  grant  that 
I,  after  the  present  distress,  which  sorely 
afflicts  me,  may  gaze  upon  the  immortal  First 
Cause,  that  I,  through  the  Spirit,  may  be 
born  again,  and  that  in  me,  purified  by  sacred 
rite,  and  delivered  from  guilt,  the  Holy  Spirit 
may  live  and  move." 


The  Eternal  Gospel.  63 

One  might  continue  without  end  this  line 
of  illustration  and  of  argument.  The  field 
which  modern  research  has  here  opened  is 
boundless.  But  enough  for  our  purpose  has 
been  said.  What  we  wanted  to  show  is,  in 
these  instances,  sufficiently  revealed — that  the 
Christian  Gospel  is  not  a  bizarre,  isolated  thing, 
cut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  human  story,  but 
is  linked  intimately  and  indissolubly  with  the 
entire  history  of  the  world,  one  with  it  in 
its  struggle,  its  aspiration  and  its  victory. 
Here  find  we  the  Gospel  at  the  head  of  the 
world's  faiths,  the  goal  towards  which  they 
strove,  the  realisation  of  what  they  dreamed. 
God  is  here  revealed  not  as  intervening  in  this 
or  that  patch  of  world  territory  simply,  or 
on  this  or  that  day  of  history,  but  as  every- 
where in  humanity  and  all  the  time. 

In  this  view  Christianity  stands  as  the 
eternal  religion.  Chrysostom  tells  us  that 
the  people  of  his  Church  at  Constantinople 
were  full  of  questions,  asking  why  Christ  had 
not  come  sooner,  and  about  God's  dealing 
with  the  heathen  world.  We  are  to-day  in  a 
better  condition  for  answering  those  questions . 
No  human  soul,  of  whatever  world-age  or 
world-longitude,  has  been  left  without  witness 
or  without  help.  These  distant  realms  and 
times,  so  far  from  being  cut  off  from  the 
Church  fellowship,  were  privileged  in  the 
Divine  Providence  to  help  weave  the  very 


64  The  Eternal  Religion. 

garment  of  thought  and  language  in  which  the 
Christian  doctrine  was  first  set  forth.  They, 
too,  assisted  to  build  the  sacred  temple  of  the 
eternal  rehgion.  They,  too,  were  of  its  apos- 
tolate,  though  they  knew  it  not.  It  took 
all  these  ages,  the  experience,  the  passion, 
the  aspiration  of  the  whole  world,  to  frame 
our  New  Testament.  The  entire  race  had 
its  hand  in  that  production.  The  entire  race 
shares  the  Divine  grace  it  proclaims,  the 
Divine  kingdom  to  which  it  points. 


VIII. 

Calvary. 

The  eternal  religion,  we  have  so  far  insisted, 
recognises  in  Christianity  its  fullest  expression. 
But  of  Christianity  the  death  and  reported 
resurrection  of  Jesus  are  everywhere  recog- 
nised as  of  the  essence  of  its  message.  It 
would  accordingly  be  impossible,  in  an  exposi- 
tion of  this  kind,  with  any  consistency,  to 
omit  a  statement  of  what  we  conceive  to  have 
been  the  actuality  and  significance  of  these 
events.     We  begin  with  the  Crucifixion. 

The  death  of  Jesus  at  Jerusalem  is,  we  may 
say,  the  best  attested  fact  of  His  career. 
Concerning  other  parts  of  it — the  birth,  the 
childhood,  the  beginning  and  continuance  of 
the  ministry,  the  miracles — there  have  been 
endless  doubts  and  controversies.  There  is 
no  doubt  about  the  death.  The  most 
pronounced  scepticism  is  clear  on  that. 
A  French  anti-Christian  propaganda,  in 
denying  the  resurrection,  put  recently 
its  position  into  the  antithesis :  "  Jesus, 
mort     devant      tout      le      monde,       ressuscite 

65 


66  The  Etertstal  Religion. 

devant  personne."  For  everyone,  in  fact, 
non-believer  as  much  as  believer,  the  tragedy 
we  commemorate  on  Good  Friday  stands 
in  clear  day.  The  sense  of  historic  accuracy, 
which  compels  us  to  reject  so  much  else, 
pronounces  us  here  on  firmest  ground.  The 
event,  so  far  as  actuality  is  concerned,  is  on  a 
footing  with  the  assassination  of  Caesar,  or 
the  execution  of  Charles  the  First.  When 
the  story  brings  before  us  Annas  and  Caiaphas, 
or  that  dissolute  Spanish  Roman,  Pontius 
Pilate,  we  know  perfectly  where  we  are* 
Annas  and  Caiaphas — Josephus  has  given 
us  their  portraits.  We  know  our  Lucius 
Pontius ;  his  father  before  him ;  his  pre- 
decessors in  the  Judsean  procuratorship  ;  his 
doings  before  and  after  the  crucifixion.  Myth 
and  legend  have,  of  course,  since  played  with 
his  name.  They  have  forged  epistles  for 
him  in  the  ancient  manner.  But  we  are  at 
home  to-day  in  dealing  with  this  kind  of 
material,  and  in  the  business  of  separating  the 
false  from  the  true. 

The  whole  tragedy  of  that  Friday,  the 
fourteenth  of  Nisan,  the  seventh  of  April  of 
that  year  in  our  notation,  the  facts  and  the 
personages  connected  with  it,  are,  we  say, 
clearly  before  us,  having  indisputable  place 
in  human  chronology.  That  procession  of 
men  wending  its  way  from  the  Prsetorium 
through    the     narrow,     ill-smelling    lanes    of 


Calvary.  67 


Jerusalem  to  Golgotha ;  the  curious  crowd, 
the  indifferent  soldiery,  the  uplifting  of  the 
prisoner  there  on  the  cross,  the  awful  punish- 
ment, which  Cicero  describes  as  "  crudelis- 
simum  teterrimumque,^*  were  features  in  the 
old  city's  life  as  actual  as  the  passage  there 
to-day  of  the  modern  excursionist  who  covers 
the  route,  guide-book  in  hand. 

Thus  much  of  the  history.  What  now  do 
we  make  of  it  ?  Surely  never  had  plain 
grim  fact  so  marvellous  an  outcome.  On  this 
story  has  been  founded  a  theology — a  succes- 
sion, in  fact,  of  theologies — comprehending 
the  entire  science  of  God  and  man.  And  the 
remarkable  thing  about  it  is  that  the  actors 
in  the  drama,  the  people  in  immediate  contact, 
had  no  remotest  suspicion  of  there  being  any 
theology  in  it !  They  had  a  theology  of  their 
own,  but  they  saw  no  application  of  it  here. 
To  the  Roman  and  to  the  Jew  the  dDctrin© 
of  sacrifice,  animal  and  even  human,  was 
quite  familiar.  But  the  death  of  Jesus  con- 
veyed to  them  no  hint  of  sacrifice.  Tae 
elements  were  wanting.  A  sacrifice  meant 
the  offering  of  the  victim  as  a  gift  or  a  pro- 
pitiation to  the  unseen  Powers.  But  Caiaphas 
and  Pilate  were  making  no  such  offering.  They 
were  simply  carrying  out  a  judicial  sentence ; 
putting  to  death  a  condemned  criminal. 

Yet  on  that,  to  them,  commonplace  trans- 
aotion^has,  we  say,  been  built  a  world-religion. 


68  The  Eternal  Religion. 

The  cross,  up  to  then  a  word  synonymous 
with  our  "  gibbet,"  has  become  the  most 
sacred  of  names.  On  its  grim  front  has  been 
hung  the  most  wondrous  of  thought-systems, 
a  system  varying  with  the  times,  but  ever 
renewing  itself,  a  system  compounded  of 
early  world  beliefs,  of  ancient  cosmogonies, 
of  wildest  phantasies,  of  profoundest  truths. 
In  the  early  centuries  ponderous  tomes  were 
written  to  prove  that  Christ's  death  was  an 
offering  to  the  devil.  A  later  theory,  which 
ruled  Christendom  for  centuries,  saw  in  it  an 
offering  to  God  for  human  sin  ;  a  commercial 
transaction,  a  quid  pro  quo  of  so  much  suffering 
for  so  much  guilt.  People  to-day  sing  hymns 
with  this  as  their  motif ;  many  of  them  still 
listen  to  sermons  based  on  that  assumption. 
We  imagine  ourselves  at  a  long  distance 
from  the  mental  condition  which  led  Jephthah 
to  slay  his  daughter,  or  Agamemnon  to  devote 
Iphigenia  to  the  knife.  But  the  idea  of 
human  sacrifice  as  a  propitiation  to  Deity 
is  still  an  article  in  the  creeds,  and  at  the 
back  of  much  theological  lucubration. 

What,  then,  does  the  death  of  Jesus  really 
stand  for  ?  What,  if  we  reject  these  interpre- 
tations, do  we  accept  as  its  historical  and 
spiritual  significance  ?  To  get  to  that  we  need 
to  ask  some  preliminary  questions.  And 
first  we  may  inquire  how  it  happened  that  the 
event  and  these  theories  of  it  came  together. 


Calvary.  69 


Came  together,  we  say,  for  the  theory  did  not 
grow  out  of  the  event ;  rather  it  coalesced 
with  it.  It  is  one  of  the  miracles  of  history 
that  while  no  one  ever  thought  of  constructing 
a  theology  out  of  the  assassination  of  Caesar, 
or  the  death  of  Socrates,  there  should  have 
come  this  one  out  of  the  death  of  Christ. 
It  is  a  miracle,  we  say,  of  the  coincidence  of 
circumstance  with  a  condition  of  the  human 
mind.  On  the  one  side  stood  the  event ;  at 
first  naked  and  solitary ;  to  all  men,  the 
disciples  included,  an  unrelieved  tragedy. 
Then  floated  towards  it,  not  unguided,  we 
may  be  assured,  the  vast  body  of  an  ancient 
people's  thought  and  immemorial  tradition. 
The  crucial  point  in  the  history  here  is  that 
the  disciples,  the  apostles,  Paul  included, 
were  Jews.  Their  whole  conception  of  the 
world,  its  history,  its  religious  purpose,  was 
Jewish.  They  had  been  brought  up  on  the 
doctrine  of  sacrifices  as  propitiatory  of  Deity. 
As  we  to-day  study  scientifically  the  workings 
of  the  human  mind  we  perceive  that  it  was 
inevitable,  if  they  framed  a  theory  at  all  of 
the  death  of  their  Master,  it  should  cast  itself 
in  this  mould,  be  coloured  by  this  conception. 
It  could  not  be  otherwise.  As  we  have 
seen  in  the  last  chapter,  the  language, 
the  types,  the  whole  thought-system  were 
there  ready-made.  They  could  only  use  the 
tools  they  possessed ;  they  could  only  speak 


70  The  Etebnal  Religion. 

the  tongue  they  knew.  The  past,  in  the  hour 
even  of  its  supersession,  always  exacts  its 
price.  The  price  here  was  that,  in  dying, 
Judaism  fixed  its  language  upon  Christianity, 
giving  it  a  form  of  which  we  are  to-day  only 
beginning  to  grasp  the  real  significance. 

But  to-day,  in  which  we  are  extracting  the 
true  history  from  the  '*  histories,"  in  which 
we  are  detaching  events  from  their  ancient 
framework,  in  which  we  are  moving  among 
myth  and  legend  with  the  ease  and  certainty 
which  science  has  secured  us  ;  to-day,  is  the 
Cross,  on  these  accounts,  any  less  potent 
or  less  precious  to  us  ?  In  no  degree.  For 
the  marvel  in  spiritual  evolution  is  that  the 
fading  of  earlier  and  cruder  forms  is  always  to 
make  room  for  fitter  and  more  effectual  ones. 
The  Cross  has  survived  all  its  interpretations, 
proof  in  itself  of  the  Divine  reality  hidden  in  it. 
The  death  there  consummated  was  indeed 
a  sacrifice,  the  greatest  of  all,  carrying  in  itself 
whatsoever  of  worth  was  included  in  the  dim 
ideas  of  earlier  times,  and  lifting  the  whole 
conception  into  another  plane.  Augustine 
had  surely  prophetic  insight  into  this  in  that 
great  word  of  his  in  the  De  Civitate  Dei  :  "  Huic 
summo  veroque  sacrificio  cuncta  sacrificia  falsa 
cesserunt.  In  this  highest  and  true  sacrifice 
the  false  sacrifices  around  have  ceased." 
It  is  ever  the  way  of  evolution  for  the  higher 
form  to  contain  in  itself  all  the  lower  ones. 


Calvary.  71 


in  a  new  manifestation  which  at  once  trans- 
forms and  transcends  them.  And  so  we  find 
the  New  Testament  writers,  while  using  of 
necessity  the  language  and  thought-forms 
into  which  they  were  bom,  have  in  their 
doctrine  of  the  death  made  no  mistake  as  to 
the  innermost  significance  of  it. 

It  is  one  of  the  extraordinary  features  of 
this  theme  that  the  critic,  if  his  one  interest 
is  the  truth,  is  obliged  in  the  end  to  become 
constructive.  The  same  rigid  analysis  which, 
in  discussing  the  history  of  the  event,  leads 
him  to  cut  away  so  much  of  the  earlier  con- 
ceptions, compels  him  now  upon  another 
and  deeper  line  of  things.  The  question  he 
has  to  answer  is,  why  did  the  disciples,  in  their 
story  of  the  Cross,  in  Gospel  and  Epistle,  ojffer 
us  this  theory  of  it  ?  They  threw  their 
theory,  as  we  have  said,  into  a  given  form  ; 
but  why  a  theory  at  all  ?  They  were  not 
paid  to  offer  one  ;  neither  bribe  nor  threat 
compelled  them  to  their  view.  It  was  a 
purely  voluntary  business  ;  an  irresistible  inner 
movement  of  the  mind.  Nobody,  as  we  have 
already  said,  made  a  religion  out  of  the  death 
of  Caesar.  What  caused  a  religion  to  come 
out  of  the  death  of  Christ  ?  The  answer  is 
inevitable.  It  was  because  Christ  was  what 
He  was.  It  was  the  character,  the  life  and 
spirit  of  the  Victim ;  what  He  had  done 
and  said  ;  what  He  had  made  them  feel  about 


72  The  Eternal  Religion. 

Himself  ;  this  it  was  that  wove  the  spell,  that 
created  their  doctrine. 

And  the  doctrine,  when  we  see  beneath  the 
Judaic    phraseology,    is    clear.     Here    is    no 
placation  of  an  offended  Deity.     The  better 
mind  of  Israel  had  got  already  far  beyond 
that  conception.     The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a 
broken  heart  and  a  contrite  spirit.     A  father 
wants  no  intervening  slaughter  as  a  reason 
for    loving    his    prodigal.     What    bound    the 
New   Testament   Christians   with   everlasting 
bonds  to  the  Cross  was  that  it  was  the  Master 
who    hung    there ;  the    Master    whose    love 
reached  here  its  highest  expression,  its  perfect 
and  eternal  consummation.     That  was  what 
they  meant  when  they  said  that  "  He  bore 
our    sins "  ;  that    "  He    had    purchased^the 
Church  with  His  own  blood."     Yes,  He  had 
bought  all  His  followers  that  way.     He  had 
bound  them  for  ever  to  Him  by  such  love 
as    never    before    was    dreamed.     The    Cross 
became  the  fountain  of  redemption  because 
there  throbbed  the  spirit  of  redemption.     In 
their  sorrow,  in  their  loss,  in  their  disgrace, 
in  their  weakness,  in  their  hour  of  death,  men 
lift  their  eyes  to  the  Cross  because  there  they 
see,  in  a  light  which  no  lapse  of  time,  no 
change    of    circumstance    can    ever    dim,    a 
perfect  submission,  a  perfect   self-sacrifice,    a 
perfect  love  which  reach  even  to  the  evil  and 
to  the  lost. 


Calvary.  73 


It  is  this  note  of  an  absolute  surrender 
toward  God,  and  a  perfect  love  towards 
men,  that  in  all  time  has  made  the  Cross 
the  saving  power.  It  is  this  which,  amid 
all  the  barbaric  interpretations  of  it,  has  given 
the  preaching  of  the  Cross  its  unutterable 
charm.  The  crudeness  of  the  theory  could 
never  prevent  the  love  from  breaking  through, 
and  it  was  love  that  wrought  the  marvels. 
A  Bernard,  a  Luther,  a  Spurgeon  preach  the 
Cross  ;  their  doctrinal  interpretation  may  differ 
each  from  the  others,  and  all  from  our  own. 
But  the  one  spirit  shines  through,  and  human 
hearts  are  melted  and  won.  In  every  age 
the  charm  works.  What  Justin  Martyr  said 
at  the  beginning  has  gone  on  repeating  itself. 
*'  For  Socrates  has  no  one  shown  such  faith 
as  to  die  for  his  doctrine,  but  for  Christ's  sake 
not  only  philosophers,  but  also  mechanics 
and  unlearned  men  have  suffered  death." 
And  thus,  in  Lamartine's  words,  the  tomb 
of  Christ  has  been  the  grave  of  the  old  world 
and  the  cradle  of  the  new. 

No  religion  could  be  perfect  without  a 
perfect  death.  Christianity  gives  us  that. 
Rousseau,  comparing  Socrates  with  Jesus, 
says  that  the  death  of  Socrates  was  the  death 
of  a  hero,  the  death  of  Jesus  was  the  death 
of  a  God.  It  is  significant  that  Mohamme- 
danism, feeling  its  lack  here,  has,  among  the 
Shiite   section   at   least,   invented   a   Passion 


74  The  Eteknal  Reijgion. 

Week  of  its  own  ;  and  in  Persia  makes  the 
Passion  plays  which  dramatise  the  deaths 
of  Ali  and  his  sons  the  great  religious  festival 
of  the  year.  The  substitute  is  a  fit  measure 
of  the  distance  between  the  two  religions. 
The  Persian  Teaziehs  are  a  poor  business 
beside  the  Christian  commemoration.  At 
Calvary  we  learn  to  love  and  to  serve. 
There  also  we  learn  to  suffer  and  to  die. 
Said  Michel  Angelo,  *'  When  you  come  to  die 
remember  the  Passion  of  Jesus  Christ."  The 
artist's  subHme  genius  had  taught  him  nothing 
better  than  that.  Calvary  is  indeed  a  good 
place  to  come  to.  The  Jew  of  old  time  trod 
the  slopes  which  led  upward  to  the  city  with 
,songs  of  rejoicing.  We  climb  them  with 
a  fuller,  tenderer  consciousness.  The  air  we 
breathe  here  is  of  heaven.  The  prospect  is 
divine.  "  Life,"  says  our  modem  poet, 
*'  struck  sharp  on  death,  makes  awful  lightning." 
This  Life,  struck  sharp  on  this  Death,  makes 
more  than  lightning — makes  a  radiance  in 
which  God's  innermost  secret  is  revealed. 


IX. 
What   was   the   Resurrection? 

The  beliefs  connected  with  Easter  Day  have, 
within  the  lifetime  of  many  of  us,  gone  through 
some  startling  phases.  During  that  period 
the  educated  mind  has  had,  on  this  question, 
shocks  as  it  were  of  earthquake.  Between 
the  present  attitude  and  the  unquestioning 
assurance  of  the  earlier  orthodoxy  a  great  gulf 
has  yawned.  The  state  of  mind  which  per- 
mitted TertulHan  to  say,  and  generations  to 
repeat  after  him  :  ''  Et  sepulttos  resurrexit  ; 
cerium  est  quia  impossibile  est.'^  "  And  He 
being  buried  rose  again  ;  it  is  certain  because 
it  is  impossible  " — has  passed  away.  We  can 
no  longer  talk  about  the  happening  of  im- 
possibles. The  new  habit  of  historic  realism 
has  destroyed  our  faculty  of  seK-delusion. 
The  past  has  ceased  to  be  the  refuge  of  the 
incredible.  The  first  century,  we  realise, 
belonged  as  much  to  the  world-system  as  the 
twentieth,  and  its  happenings  were  under  the 
same  laws.  Palestine  is  as  much  a  part  of  our 
planet  as  New  York  or  London,  and  whatever 

75 


76  The  Eternal  Religion. 

has  occurred  in  the  one  place  ia  such  as  might 
occur  in  the  others.  The  documents,  ancient 
or  otherwise,  which  deal  with  religion  must, 
with  the  modem  man,  have  as  much  actuality 
in  them  as  his  newspaper,  if  they  are  to  have 
any  more  than  a  conventional  value. 

The  rise  into  clear  consciousness  of  this  feel- 
ing produced  first  of  all  in  our  generation  a 
tremendous  rebound  in  the  direction  of  scepti- 
cism. Thirty  years  ago  the  region  of  the  actual, 
as  compared  with  the  merely  imaginable, 
seemed  to  have  become  strangely  narrowed 
down.  Physical  science  had  closed  in  upon 
man  like  a  vast  lid  that  shut  out  his  sky. 
Life  was  being  examined  with  the  scalpel  and 
the  microscope,  and  these  made  no  discoveries 
of  immortality.  The  new  criticism  threw 
scorn  upon  the  old  human  legend.  Where 
there  was  no  scorn,  there  was  despair.  What 
that  first  reaction  meant  for  earnest  souls  is 
given  us  in  those  memorable,  mournful  lines 
of  Matthew  Arnold  : 

While  we  believed,  on  earth  He  went 

And  open  stood  His  grave ; 
Men  called  from  chamber,  church  and  tent 

And  Christ  was  by  to  save. 
Now  He  is  dead.     Far  hence  He  Ues 

In  the  lorn  Syrian  town, 
And  on  His  grave  with  shining  eyes 

The  Syrian  stars  look  down. 

In  that  phase  of  the  Western  mind  the  feeling 
of    literature    was    also    represented    by    the 


What  was  the  Resurrection  ?       77 

wonderful  passage  in  Renan,  where,  in  the 
Vie  de  Jesus,  at  that  turning-point  of  all 
history,  he  makes  the  fancy  of  an  hysterical 
woman,  the  opening  and  shutting  of  a  door, 
the  breath  of  the  Eastern  breeze,  into  the 
producing  causes  of  the  resurrection  faith 
which  created  Christendom. 

But  this  attitude  towards  the  great  Easter 
faith  is  already,  with  the  best  minds,  passing 
away.  Some  new  factors  in  judging  the 
problem  have  come  in.  Modem  science,  which 
began  by  limiting  the  human  horizon,  is  now 
enlarging  it  on  every  side.  It  is  discovering 
that  the  instruments  it  uses  are  not  so  adequate 
as  it  once  thought  for  sizing  up  man  and  his 
destiny.  It  cannot  explain  him  by  its  cycle 
of  laws.  At  a  dozen  points  he  breaks  through 
them  into  another  sphere.  And  his  history 
breaks  through  likewise.  In  its  own  immediate 
department,  indeed,  science  is  to-day  using  a 
totally  new  language  from  that  of  a  generation 
ago.  One  of  the  most  eminent  of  its  professors, 
Professor  Shaler,  speaking  of  the  groups  of 
natural  laws,  declares  of  them  that  they  are 
not  to  be  understood  as  "  evidences  of  inevit- 
able and  infinitely  distributed  events,  but  as 
having  a  limited  field  of  certainty.  They  hold 
on  this  planet  and  for  our  age."  And  further  : 
"  All  that  we  divine  of  the  unseen  leaves  us 
to  conceive  that  it  is  a  realm  of  unending 
and  infinitely  varied  originations.     Into  the 


78  The  Eternal  Religion. 

equation  is  continually  going  the  influential 
qualities  of  newly-formed  individualities,  and 
from  it  is  continually  being  drawn  those  that 
pass  away.'*  In  other  words,  our  universe  is 
discovered  to  be  vastly  more  elastic,  fuller  of 
unimagined  possibilities,  freer  to  the  play  of 
Bpirit,  than  the  age  of  early  Darwinism  could 
allow  itself  to  believe. 

When,  from  this  new  starting-point,  we 
come  back  to  investigate  the  Easter  tradition, 
we  find  our  attitude,  while  far  removed  from 
that  of  the  old  conventional  orthodoxy,  to  be 
equally  remote  from  that  of  a  pessimistic  un- 
belief. It  is  that,  in  fact,  of  a  faith,  actual 
and  operative,  because  established  on  grounds 
that  the  modem  mind  finds  reliable.  Let  us 
examine  how  the  matter  stands.  Our  first 
duty  we  see  is  to  take  matters  in  their  proper 
order.  And  the  natural  order  here,  as  in  every 
other  inquiry,  will  lead  us,  as  a  beginning,  not 
to  causes  but  to  effects.  What  occupied 
men  first  in  the  phenomena  of  a  thunderstorm 
were  not  the  electrical  laws,  but  the  blinding 
flash  and  the  echoing  roar,  and  the  impression 
these  made  on  their  senses.  From  that 
followed  the  search  for  causes.  In  the  quest 
they  were  guided  by  the  instinct  which  assured 
them  that  this  impression  on  their  senses  was 
a  reliable  measure  of  the  outside  reality.  In 
like  manner,  in  studying  the  phenomena  of 
the  Easter  faith,  we  come  first  to  the  immense 


What  was  the  Resurrection  ?       79 

fact  of  the  faith  itself.    Here,   as  with  the 
impression    of    our    thunderstorm,    is    a   tre- 
mendous  effect  wrought   on   a   multitude   of 
human  minds  and  hearts.     Nobody,  not  the 
most    destructive    of    critics,    ever    questions 
that   effect.     Nobody   doubts   that   whatever 
happened   at   Jerusalem   after   the   death   of 
Chiist,  the  apostles  and  the  early  Christians 
beHeved  and  taught  that  He  rose  from  the 
dead.     The  behef  and  the  teaching  were  im- 
questionably  there.     What  had  caused  them  ? 
This  brings  us  to  the  account  of  the  Resur- 
rection, as  given  in  the  Christian  Scriptures. 
Have  we  here  the  true  cause  ?     Again,  much 
depends    on    the    order   in    which    we    take 
the    evidence.     The    average    EngHsh    reader 
naturally  accepts  what,   on  this  subject,  he 
finds   first  in  the   New   Testament   as   what 
actually  is  first.     He  needs  to  correct  that 
impression.     The   four    Gospels    are   not   our 
earhest  evidence  of  what  really  happened  after 
the  crucifixion.     The  remarkable  varieties  of 
the   Gospel  Resurrection  narratives  show  in 
themselves   that   they   are   not   a   first-hand 
witness.     They  are  the  fruit  of  a  time  in  which 
discrepancies  had  been  allowed  to  grow.     So 
great  are  these  discrepancies  that  one  of  the 
most    eminent    of    modem    critics,    Professor 
Harnack,   declares  that  on  this  account  the 
Easter   stories    are   not    historically    rehable. 
But  that,  surely,  is  too  sweeping  an  assertion. 


80  The  Eteknal  Religion. 

Discrepancies  may  throw  doubt  upon  details, 
but  not,  of  themselves,  upon  central  facts. 
It  is  the  very  nature  of  great  facts  to  produce 
discrepant  stories.  Mr.  Andrew  Lang,  in  his 
work,  "  The  Mystery  of  Marie  Stuart,"  speak- 
ing of  the  murder  of  Darnley,  declares,  and 
with  perfect  justice,  that  if  the  wide  differ- 
ences of  statement  of  persons  closely  connected 
with  the  event  were  to  be  taken  as  invalidating 
their  testimony  as  to  the  central  fact,  then 
assuredly  the  murder  of  Darnley  never  took 
place  at  all.  A  newspaper  controversy  some 
time  ago  revealed  the  extraordinary  diver- 
gences of  statement  of  trustworthy  persons 
as  to  the  way  in  which  the  news  of  Waterloo 
first  came  to  England.  But  no  one  doubts 
the  murder  of  Darnley,  nor  that  England  did 
receive  early  tidings  of  Wellington's  great 
victory.  Great  events,  it  seems,  commonly 
create  discrepant  stories  of  them.  It  would 
be  a  strange  procedure,  on  that  account,  to 
take  the  discrepancies  as  destroying  the  event ! 
But  what,  we  ask  again,  was  the  event 
which  produced  the  Easter  stories  ?  Fortu- 
nately we  have  here  an  earlier  witness  than 
that  of  the  Synoptics  and  of  the  Fourth  Gospel. 
It  is  that  of  St.  Paid.  His  letters  are  the  earliest 
written  evidence  as  to  that  birth  hour  of 
Christianity.  St.  Paul's  Gospel,  like  that  of  the 
other  apostles,  was,  above  all  things,  a  Gospel 
of   the   Resurrection.    He   preached   a   risen 


What  was  the  Resuerection  ?       81 

Christ,  and  he  believed  Christ  risen  because 
he  had  seen  Him  and  had  felt  His  power. 
When,  in  the  fifteenth  of  I.  Corinthians,  one  of 
our  very  earliest  extant  Christian  documents, 
he  speaks  of  the  successive  appearances  of  the 
risen  Lord,  first  to  Cephas,  then  to  the  twelve, 
then  to  five  hundred  at  once,  afterwards  to 
James,  and  again  to  all  the  apostles,  he  winds 
up  with  the  appearance  to  himself.  That 
appearance  was  an  overwhelming  fact  in  his 
life.  It  had  converted  him  from  an  opponent 
to  a  fervent  believer  ;  had  wholly  transformed 
his  views  and  his  destinies.  But  what  was 
this  appearance  ?  Observe,  he  puts  it  on 
precisely  the  same  level  as  the  earlier  mani- 
festations to  the  other  apostles  and  disciples. 
He  offers  no  hint  that  his  experience  in  this 
matter  was  other  than  theirs. 

And  his  experience — what  of  it  ?  The 
supreme  and  governing  fact  about  it  is  that 
it  was  a  purely  subjective  one.  Whatever 
happened  at  Damascus  was  a  happening  to  his 
own  interior  soul.  What  he  saw  was  unseen 
of  his  companions.  And  the  whole  after- 
testimony  of  the  apostle  as  to  his  relation  to 
Christ  tallies  with  this  first  beginning.  The 
relation  was  that  of  a  spiritual  force  working 
upon  him,  within  him,  from  out  of  the  unseen 
world.  He  knew  his  Master  to  be  living  in 
that  realm  because  of  vital  communications 
from  Him  which  set  his  being  aflame.     '*  When 


82  The  Eternal  Religion. 

it  pleased  God  to  reveal  His  Son  in  me  "  ; 
here  for  Paul  was  the  Easter  faith  and  the 
Easter  fact. 

It  is  here,  in  this  earliest  story  of  the  Resur- 
rection, that  we  have  the  clue  to  all  the  rest. 
We  ask  our  readers  to  study  carefully  the 
whole  of  the  narratives  on  this  subject  of 
the  four  Gospels,  to  note  what  they  say,  and 
more,  what  they  suggest.  Everywhere,  they 
will  discover,  there  is  the  idea  of  a  manifesta- 
tion that  takes  the  form  of  an  unearthly, 
immaterial  and  wholly  spiritual  happening. 
What  is  the  meaning  of  the  phrase  in  Matthew 
where,  describing  the  appearance  in  Galilee, 
the  writer  says,  "  But  some  doubted  '*  ? 
What  else  but  that  the  awesome  impression 
made  on  the  minds  of  the  disciples  left  some 
of  them  wondering  what  precise  actuality 
lay  behind  this  glimpse,  this  stir  from  the 
Unseen  ?  What  is  the  suggestion  in  Luke's 
story  of  the  walk  to  Emmaus,  where  the 
mysterious  companion  of  the  two  disciples  is 
at  first  unrecognised  by  them,  and  then 
vanishes  out  of  their  sight  ?  The  psychic 
character  so  unmistakably  manifest  in  these 
accounts  is  not  less  prominent  in  those  of  the 
Fourth  Gospel.  It  appears  in  the  "  touch  me 
not  "  of  the  garden  story,  and  in  the  repeated 
statement  that  "  the  doors  were  shut  "  when 
the  Master  suddenly  appeared  to  the  assembled 
company. 


What  was  the  Resurrection  ?       83 

There  is  no  getting  rid  of  these  hints.  Any 
theory  which  takes  the  post-mortem  Gospel 
stories  into  account  must  square  itself  with 
them.  They  dispose  utterly  of  the  idea  that, 
in  the  minds  of  the  writers,  the  appearance  to 
the  first  believers  was  of  a  body  which  even 
resembled  in  character  and  quality  that  which 
had  been  laid  in  the  grave.  And  it  is  precisely 
at  this  point  that  we  meet  the  objection  of 
those  who  ask,  "  What  on  this  theory  is  to  be 
made  of  the  empty  tomb  ;  and  what  became 
of  the  body  of  Jesus  1  "  Our  answer  is  quite 
simple.  We  do  not  know,  nor  does  anyone 
else.  That  is  one  of  the  secrets  of  history. 
As  De  Wette  says,  a  darkness  rests  on  these 
details  which,  with  our  present  information, 
it  is  impossible  to  penetrate.  But,  let  it  be 
immediately  observed,  that  if  the  view  here 
taken  throws  no  light  on  this  point,  neither 
does  any  other  theory  that  holds  closely  to 
the  Biblical  accounts.  A  form  which  made 
men  "  suppose  they  had  seen  a  spirit,"  which 
appeared  suddenly  in  a  room  whose  doors  were 
closed,  and  which  vanished  without  warning 
from  men*s  sight,  whatever  it  might  be,  was 
assuredly,  we  repeat,  not  the  physical  form 
that  was  interred  in  Joseph's  new  tomb- 
Moreover,  the  idea  of  a  transformation  of  the 
one  into  the  other  is  neither  scientific  nor 
Biblical.  Apart  from  other  considerations,  it 
would  be  a  fiat  contradiction  of  St.  Paul's 


84  The  Eternal  Religion. 

argument :  *'  That  which  thou  sowest,  thou 
sowest  not  that  body  that  shall  be  .  .  . 
so  also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead." 

It  is  a  sufficient  clue  ;  it  is  a  credible  one  ; 
and  it  is  one  that  leaves  the  vital  Christian 
faith  not  only  unimpaired,  but  re-born  to  a 
new  actuality  for  our  age.  What  had  hap- 
pened to  Paul  had  happened  to  earlier  fol- 
lowers of  the  Crucified.  They,  too,  '*  had 
seen  the  Lord."  After  the  last  scene  on 
Calvary,  after  the  pure  soul  on  the  Cross  there 
had  breathed  itself  forth  to  the  Father,  there 
was  for  a  time  nothing  but  blank  desolation 
for  His  followers.  And  then,  striking  across 
the  black  darkness,  there  came,  first  to  one 
and  then  to  another,  mysterious  thrills  of  the 
Spirit,  glimpses,  un veilings,  openings  of  the 
inner  eye,  and  visions  printing  themselves 
upon  it ;  the  supersensuous  within  vibrating 
to  motions  of  the  supersensuous  without. 
And  the  whole  ineffable  movement  was  instinct 
with  a  sense  and  feeling  of  their  vanished 
Lord.  They  knew  that  it  was  He.  Before 
His  death  He  was  a  link  for  them  between 
two  worlds.  Even  then  the  largest  part 
of  Him  was  in  and  of  that  higher  sphere. 
Now,  wholly  taken  into  it,  He  was  whispering 
them  from  it,  and  pouring  into  their  hearts 
of  its  unimaginable  treasures.  The  Resurrec- 
tion, in  fine,  was  the  psychic  manifestation  of 
the  departed  Lord. 


What  was  the  Resurrection  ?       85 

That  was  for  the  first  disciples  the  Easter 
faith.  It  was  the  faith  that  converted  them 
and  started  them  to  convert  the  world.  When 
people  ask,  "  What  was  the  Resurrection  ?  " 
there  is  our  reply.  It  is  PauFs  reply,  and  what 
was  good  enough  for  him  should  be  good 
enough  for  us.  The  more  so,  as  it  is  one  in 
which  history,  science  and  present  human 
experience  unite  and  harmonise.  And  it 
contains  all  we  need,  for  it  gives  us  the  risen 
and  ever-living  Christ,  and  opens  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven  to  all  believers. 


X. 
Our  Moral    Habitat. 

A  FUNDAMENTAL  feature  of  the  eternal  religion 
is  its  relation  to  morality.  On  one  point  all 
sane  men  are  agreed — that  moral  character 
is  the  supreme  life  value.  The  men  of 
action  and  the  men  of  thought  are  alike  solid 
on  this  conclusion.  Napoleon,  and  Cromwell 
before  him,  held  that  beyond  all  question  of 
equipment  or  strategy  was  an  army's  morale 
as  a  condition  of  victory.  Huxley  put  his 
conviction  into  the  caiistic  saying,  *'  Clever 
men  are  as  common  as  blackberries  ;  the  rare 
thing  is  to  find  a  good  one."  Tyndall  utters 
his  verdict  in  the  saying,  "  There  is  a  thing  of 
more  value  than  science,  and  it  is  nobiHty  of 
character."  From  his  side  of  things,  Emerson 
writes :  "  The  foundation  of  culture,  as  of 
character,  is  at  last  the  moral  sentiment. 
If  we  live  truly,  we  shall  see  truly."  The 
soldier,  the  sceptic,  the  materiahst,  the  littera- 
teur, as  much  as  the  orthodox  theologian,  is, 
we  see,  convinced  that  in  the  mysterious 
sphere  of  things  deep  down  within  us,  where 


Our  Moral  Habitat.  87 

work  our  powers  of  choice  and  will,  is  to  be 
sought  the  real  significance  and  potency  of  our 
life.  All  the  world  is  of  opinion  that,  for 
national  and  individual  welfare,  nothing  touches 
in  importance  the  securing,  in  that  quarter, 
of  healthy  conditions. 

Yet,  with  all  that  taken  for  granted,  nothing 
is  more  singular  than  the  way  in  which  we 
treat  this  side  of  ourselves.  We  occupy,  and 
daily  do  our  work  from,  a  given  moral  habitat, 
with  the  vaguest  ideas  as  to  how  we  came 
by  it,  as  to  what  its  condition  is,  and  as  to 
how  the  changes  which  it  is  constantly  under- 
going tend  to  its  betterment  or  its  worsening. 
The  theme  is  one  that,  of  course,  runs  through 
the  very  centre  of  religious  teaching,  but 
its  treatment  has  been,  too  often,  a  purely 
conventional  one.  There  is  room  and  need 
for  some  more  definite  conclusions  here  than 
most  of  us  appear  to  have  reached,  conclusions 
founded  on  the  actual  experience  of  life. 

Be  it  remembered,  to  begin  with,  that 
our  moral  habitat  is  a  twofold  affair.  There  is, 
first,  that  of  the  external  circumstances  by 
which  we  are  surrounded.  But  within  these, 
and  far  closer  to  us,  is  a  structure,  which  is  also 
a  habitat,  growing  up  aroimd  us,  woven  out 
of  our  past,  knit  of  a  million  volitions,  judg- 
ments and  acts  ;  a  vital  structure  we  carry 
everywhere  with  us,  and  which  in  a  healthy 
nature  has  become  the  master  and  manipulator 


88  The  Eternal  Religion. 

of  the  external,  rejecting  its  deleterious, 
transmuting  its  raw  material  into  nutriment, 
and  by  its  adaptations  securing  health  in  the 
midst  of  surrounding  disease.  Both  these 
forms  of  our  moral  habitat  offer  richest  material 
of  observation,  and  are  worth  our  most  careful 
study. 

The  sphere  of  outside  circumstances  is, 
we  say,  in  itself  a  moral  habitat.  Everything 
in  the  world  yonder — the  food  we  eat,  the  air 
we  breathe,  the  age  we  are  bom  in,  the  country 
we  belong  to,  the  social  position  we  occupy — 
carries  its  special  moral  quality  which  is 
incessantly  working  upon  us.  There  have 
been  writers,  indeed,  who  have  made  this 
external  factor  the  all-dominant  one.  Buckle, 
in  his  "  History  of  Civilisation,"  takes  it  as  an 
axiom  that  the  character  of  nations  and  races 
is  an  affair  of  their  cUmate,  of  their  geographical 
conditions,  of  the  food  they  eat.  Buckle  made 
here  the  mistake  of  people  who  t^ke  the  half 
for  the  whole,  yet  his  half  has  undoubtedly 
to  be  reckoned  with.  Part  of  the  mystery  of 
our  fat«  lies  in  its  being  knit  so  closely  to  our 
time  and  our  class.  A  given  age  has  a  certain 
tincture  which  dyes  all  the  souls  that  are  bom 
in  it,  WTiat  an  inner  adversity,  for  instance, 
to  have  belonged  to  the  Germany  of  the  Thirty 
Years'  War,  a  time  when,  according  to  a  con- 
temporary writer,  in  addition  to  a  physical 
misery   which  reduced  the  population   from 


Our  Moeal  Habitat.  89 

sixteen  to  four  millions,  and  which  led  men  to 
devour  the  corpses  that  hung  on  the  gallows, 
there  was  a  depravation  of  manners  amongst 
all  classes,  and  amongst  the  nobility  especially, 
which  almost  surpasses  belief.  Professions 
also,  trades,  callings,  have  their  speciality 
of  moral  climate.  How  is  it,  by  the  way, 
that  the  "  law "  has  in  this  connection  got 
everywhere  so  bad  a  name  ?  *'  Whv,"  cries 
a  character  in  one  of  our  early  English  come- 
dies, "  does  the  lawyer  wear  black  ?  Does 
he  carry  his  conscience  outside  ?  "  And  what 
a  cruel  saying  is  that  concerning  St.  Yves, 
the  lawyer  saint  of  Brittany :  '*  Advocatus 
et  non  latro,  res  miranda  populo,^*  which  we  may 
freely  translate  as,  "  He  was  a  lawyer  without 
being  a  thief — a  thing  which  to  the  world  was 
a  miracle  in  itself  !  "  We  may  fairly  hope 
the  ethical  climate  in  that  particular  quarter 
has  improved  since  then. 

The  influence  of  the  external  on  character 
has,  perhaps,  its  most  vivid  illustration  in  the 
effects  of  foreign  travel,  and  the  exile,  voluntary 
or7otherwise,  of  men  from  their  native' land. 
The  Anglo-Saxon,  as  the  great  modem  traveller 
and  coloniser,  has  in  this  respect  shown  a 
singular  moral  hardihood.  In  search  of 
expansion,  of  new  trade,  of  a  career,  our  race 
has  been  perpetually  breaking  bounds,  and 
that,  apparently,  without  much  thought  as  to 
what   the   results   would   be   on   its   morals. 


90  The  Eternal  Religion. 

The  results  have  been  often  deplorable  enough. 
It  used  to  be  said  that  Anglo-Indians,  on  their 
way  out,  dropped  their  religion  at  the  Cape, 
and  picked  it  up  again  on  their  way  home, 
when  their  career  was  over.  And  yet  it  says 
something  for  the  essential  soundness  of  the 
race  at  bottom,  that,  in  its  new  ventures, 
however  unpromising  the  beginnings,  the 
moral  factor  comes  out  uppermost  in  the  end. 
There  seems  a  faculty  of  moral,  as  well  as  of 
physical  acclimatisation,  which  enables  our 
people  to  thrive  inwardly  as  well  as  outwardly 
in  the  strangest  surroundings.  Sydney  began 
as  a  penal  settlement,  and  San  Francisco  as  a 
haven  of  desperadoes.  But  the  Australian 
and  the  American  city  are  to-day  amongst 
the  best  churched  of  communities. 

To  most  of  us,  however,  a  more  immediately 
practical  side  of  this  theme  is  that  of  the 
moral  habitat  as  it  exists  around  us  here  at 
home.  Without  travelling  beyond  our  parish 
boundary  we  may  find  there  momentous 
changes,  continual  fresh  conditions  which 
demand  our  closest  attention.  It  is  from 
their  failure  to  estimate  these  properly  that 
the  men  of  our  time  seem,  in  such  vast  numbers, 
to  miss  their  way  in  life.  They  set  themselves, 
for  instance,  upon  the  race  for  wealth — wealth 
at  any  price — without  considering  apparently 
the  kind  of  life  they  are  to  get  out  of  it.  For 
life,  the  clarity,  strength  and  beauty  of  the 


Our  Moral  Habitat.  91 

inner  spirit,  as  it  grows  and  energises  within 
us  from  day  to  day,  is  plainly,  to  all  who  can 
see,  the  main  thing  for  us,  in  this  world  or  any 
other.  And  so  in  contemplating  any  changed 
or  "  improved "  circumstances  our  question 
first  and  last  should  be  :  What  effect  will  all 
this  have  upon  my  inner  state  ;  will  it  make 
me  more  humble,  more  helpful,  more  loving  ; 
will  it  fill  me  fuller  of  clear-springing  thought ; 
will  ideals  be  higher,  will  the  spiritual  currents 
run  stronger  and  more  deeply  ? 

We  find  much  fault  to-day  with  asceticism, 
yet  amid  its  excesses  it  had  this  merit,  that  it 
stood  for  the  idea  of  moral  prosperity  as  above 
all  other  prosperities.  Savonarola  at  Florence, 
and  Bernard  in  his  cell  at  Clairvaux,  led  their 
life  of  outward  bareness  and  poverty  from  the 
conviction  that,  as  related  to  the  things  they 
sought  for — the  fulness  of  spiritual  power, 
a  conscious  union  with  God,  a  freedom  of 
intercourse  and  growing  influence  for  good 
upon  their  fellows,  and  the  expansion  of  all 
their  higher  faculties — the  external  pomps 
and  luxuries  were  a  hindrance  and  a  vanity. 
They  carried  their  ideas,  we  say,  to  an  ex- 
treme, but  the  experience  of  such  men,  and  the 
power  they  wielded,  should  be  a  lesson  to 
every  teacher  of  rehgion.  It  is  the  lesson  of 
the  simple  life,  which  all  the  greater  spirits 
have  practised.  Will  a  million  of  money 
or  a  palace  to  live  in  give  mo  nobler  inspira' 


92  The  Eternal  Religion. 

tions,  a  deeper  insight  into  life,  a  warmer 
affection  for  my  fellows,  a  better  power  of 
serving  them  ?  Will  all  this  build  up  in 
me  a  structure  of  finer  tissue,  with  which  to 
issue  forth,  when  the  time  comes,  to  that 
world  unseen  ?  If  not ;  if  it  would  rather  be  a 
hindrance  ;  while  frugality  and  simpHcity,  such 
as  a  Socrates  or  a  Milton  practised,  will  be  the 
truer  help,  why  for  a  moment  crave  the  purple 
and  fine  linen  ?  All  religious  teachers  need, 
we  say,  to  remember  this.  They  will  lose 
power  if  they  forget  it.  It  was  a  brutal  remark 
which  George  II.  is  reported  to  have  made 
of  Hoadly,  but  it  put  in  a  coarse  way  the 
line  of  thinking  which  the  world  instinctively 
takes  on  this  theme  :  "  Very  modest  of  a 
canting,  hypocritical  knave  to  be  crying  '  the 
Kingdom  of  Christ  is  not  of  this  world  '  at  the 
same  time  that  he  as  Christ's  ambassador 
receives  six  thousand  a  year  !  " 
'  In  the  war  of  sects  which  characterises 
the  religious  life  of  England  to-day  the  issues 
are,  by  the  contending  parties,  looked  upon 
largely  as  doctrinal  or  ecclesiastical.  Some 
day  an  observer  will  arise  who  will  adjudge 
the  issues  as  quite  other  than  this.  Germany 
had  such  an  observer  in  Goethe.  In  his 
"  Dichtung  und  Wahrheit,"  after  speaking 
of  the  German  Established  Church  of  his  time 
as  "  giving  barren  morals  without  nourish- 
ment for  heart  or  soul,"  and  of  the  Dissenters 


6uB  Moral  Habitat.  93 

— Quietists,  Herrnhuters,  Pietists  and  the 
like — as  all  "  seeking  a  nearer  access  to  God 
than  the  forms  of  the  Church  afforded,"  he 
observes  :  "  the  Dissenters  were  always  in  a 
minority  as  to  numbers,  but  ever  remarkable 
for  originality,  fervour  and  independence.*' 
When  in  England,  on  the  controversy  between 
privileged  and  unprivileged  religion,  the  balance 
has  finally  to  be  struck,  the  issue  in  like 
manner  will  He,  we  imagine,  not  in  this  or  that 
dogmatic  definition,  but  in  the  relative  moral 
textures  that  have  been  woven,  in  the  relative 
inner  states  that  have  been  realised,  in  the 
rival  communities.  To  some  of  us  inner 
freedom  is  worth  many  bishoprics. 

There  is  one  department  of  this  study 
which  might  well  have  occupied  it  entirely — that 
of  the  inner  habitat  which  the  soul  provides 
for  itself,  and  which  goes  everywhere  with  it. 
The  grandest  fruit  of  our  earHer  moral  victories 
is  that  their  results  are  woven  into  this  structure 
and  help  to  make  it  and  us  invulnerable. 
It  is  because  they  have  this  as  their  sur- 
rounding, that  spiritual  natures  can  live  and 
thrive  in  moral  quagmires.  The  truth  about 
them  is  finely  expressed  in  that  rule  which 
St.  Vincent  de  Paul  gave  to  his  "  Filles  de  la 
Charity  "  :  "  The  streets  of  the  city  or  the 
houses  of  the  sick  shall  be  your  cells,  obedience 
your  sohtude,  the  fear  of  God  your  grating,  a 
strict  and  holy  modesty  your  only  veil."     In 


§4  The  Eternal  Religion. 


a  free  and  growing  soul  this  structure,  woven 
out  of  our  past  and  present,  and  open  sheer 
to  the  heavens,  becomes  growingly  real  to  our 
consciousness.  It  regulates  for  us  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  outside  world,  and  amid  the  dis- 
orders of  the  external  creates  an  inner  calm 
where  the  spiritual  can  have  full  play.  It  is, 
as  it  were,  the  condensed  exhalation  of  our 
personality  which,  when  death  has  loosed  the 
bond  between  us  and  the  physical,  may  take 
shape  in  the  spiritual  world  as  the  form  of  the 
life  we  have  here  been  leading. 


XI. 
The  Story  of  Morals. 

A  FURTHER  insight  into  the  question  of  religion 
and  morals  will  be  gained  by  the  glance, 
which  we  propose  to  take  in  this  chapter, 
into  the  history  of  morality  in  its  relation 
to  man's  spiritual  side.  The  story  here,  both 
of  past  and  present,  is  at  first  sight  confusing 
enough.  Modern  society  offers  us  the  sinister 
spectacle  of  a  religion  which  too  often  dispenses 
with  morality,  and  of  a  morahty  which  is 
seeking  to  dispense  with  religion.  All  the 
civilised  countries  are  contributing  their  special 
variety  of  this  entanglement.  In  France 
we  see  a  formidable  movement  to  found  a 
so-called  scientific  moraHty,  which  shall  be 
independent  of  the  Christian  sanction.  Paris 
and  the  great  towns  have  witnessed  of  late 
huge  assemblies  where  the  speakers,  cutting 
themselves  off  from  the  reHgious  idea,  have 
urged  the  promotion  of  justice,  social  order 
and  morality  on  purely  naturalistic  grounds. 
If  we  pass  from  France  to  its  ally  Russia  we  see 
the  opposite  extreme.    Here  is  a  religion,  a 

95 


96  The  Eternal  Religion. 

form  of  Christianity,  professed  with  immense 
fervour  by  all  classes  of  the  populace,  but  with 
the  loosest  possible  relation  to  morals.  That 
the  village  priest  should  regularly  get  drunk 
is  considered  part  of  the  order  of  things. 
The  nation  swarms  to  the  churches  on  every 
possible  occasion,  and  is  meantime,  throughout 
its  whole  civil  and  military  organisation,  the 
theatre  of  the  vastest  and  most  thoroughly 
organised  corruption  in  the  world. 

One  could  multiply  these  illustrations  end- 
lessly. Every  nation,  as  we  have  said,  offers 
its  own  variety.  There  is  one  whole  side  of 
the  history  of  religion,  the  study  of  which 
might  put  us  in  doubt  as  to  whether  it  had  any 
ethical  value  at  all.  There  have  been  faiths 
which  were  direct  panderers  to  vice.  To  be 
a  "  Corinthian  "  was,  down  to  Shakespeare's 
day,  a  synonym  for  a  dissolute  character, 
and  Corinth  owed  its  reputation  in  this  respect 
to  its  great  temple  of  Aphrodite,  with  its 
hundreds  of  female  devotees  whose  religious 
service  was  practically  a  prostitution.  But 
let  us  not  suppose  that  paganism  has  been  the 
only  offender  here.  The  record  of  Christianity 
in  its  relation  to  morals  has  been  a  very 
mixed  one.  We  have  instanced  Russia,  but 
there  are  others  besides.  An  eminent 
French  ex-Abbe  told  the  present  writer  that  of 
the  French  clergy  of  to-day  perhaps  one- 
third  might  be  reckoned  as  pure  men,  true  to 


The  Story  of^Morals.  97 

their  celibate  vows.  Zwingli  said  of  the 
Catholic  clergy  of  his  time,  "  Scarce  one  in  a 
thousand  was  chaste."  What  the  Church 
morals  of  the  Renaissance  were  is  sufficiently 
shown  by  the  records  of  the  Borgias,  and  by 
the  elevation  of  an  ^Eneas  Sylvius  to  the 
Popedom.  And  lest  we  should  think  the 
looseness  here  was  all  on  one  side,  Protestants 
will  do  well  to  remember  that  extraordinary 
transaction  of  the  double  marriage  of  the 
Landgrave  of  Hesse,  when  a  Lutheran  divine, 
in  giving  his  benediction  to  the  marriage, 
declared  that  "  monogamy  had  had  its  day," 
and  when  Luther's  friend,  Bugenhagen,  ad- 
duced examples  of  bigamy  among  the  early 
Christians  !  On  this  special  aspect  of  morals 
we  get  disquieting  reports  also  nearer  home. 
Recently  two  of  our  English  districts,  specially 
under  the  influence  of  Methodism — Cornwall 
and  the  Potteries — have  been  marked  out 
(though  we  believe  with  some  exaggeration) 
as  on  the  black-list  in  regard  to  sexual  relations. 
And  one  of  the  most  baffling  problems  with 
which  earnest  men  have  been  confronted  is 
that  contained  in  the  undoubted  fact  that 
intense  religious  feeling  has  been  found,  in  so 
many  instances,  susceptible  of  the  swiftest 
transition  to  animal  passion. 

But  this  is  not  all.  There  are  other  aspects 
of  the  moral  question  in  which  the  history 
of  religion  ofiPers  us   difficulties  rather  than 


98  The  Eternal  Religion. 

solutions.  Take,  for  instance,  the  matter 
of  truthfulness.  Pascal's  maxim  that  "  the 
first  of  Christian  truths  is  that  truth  should 
be  loved  above  all,"  has  never  yet  taken  real 
hold  of  the  religious  consciousness.  We  are 
suffering  endless  perplexities  to-day  simply 
because  the  earlier  Christian  writers  did  not 
esteem  truth  as  a  virtue.  The  modem  scholar, 
as  he  works  upon  that  early  Christian  litera- 
ture, is  perpetually  conscious  that  in  his 
search  for  the  exact  truth  of  things,  he  is 
in  contact  with  writers  who  had  no  vivid 
sense  themselves  of  the  value  of  accuracy  and 
of  the  simple,  unadorned  fact.  And  to-day 
there  are  numbers  of  religious  people,  excel- 
lent in  general  character  and  intention,  who 
will  refuse  to  open  their  minds  to  a  truth, 
however  well  it  has  been  established,  which 
seems  to  contradict  some  earlier  prepos- 
session. 

Here,  then,  we  are  face  to  face  with  some 
great  questions.  Has  religion,  then,  no  in- 
evitable bearing  on  morality  ?  Has  moraHty, 
as  some  are  arguing  to-day,  nothing  to  do  with 
religion  ?  Is  it  a  growth  out  of  human  nature 
and  its  needs,  with  laws  of  development  which 
are  independent  of  the  creeds  ?  To  find  our 
way  here  we  need  to  answer  two  prior  questions. 
What  is  religion,  and  what  is  morality  ? 
We  will  look  for  a  moment  at  the  latter  of 
these  first.    Much  of  the  existing  confusion, 


The  Story  of  Morals.  99 

and  especially  in  the  churches,   arises  from 
want  of  clear  thinking  on  this  point. 

Let  us  admit,  to  begin  with — for  the  facts 
here  compel  us — that  human  morality  is  an 
organic  growth,  developing  by  a  kind  of  inward 
necessity.     As    we    watch    the    centuries    we 
discern  the  varying  stages  of  it,  with  standards 
that   continually   shift   as   the   years   go   on. 
One  of  the  most  interesting  things  in  the  Bible 
is  the  spectacle  it  offers  of  these  separate  moral 
strata.     The  patriarchs  were  sincerely  religious 
men,  but  their  morals,  if  practised  here  to-day, 
would  land  them  in  gaol  inside  of    a  week. 
Even    under    the    Christian    inspiration    the 
moral   principle   is,    we   see,    subject   to   the 
limitations  of  the  time.     Augustine  was  one 
of  the  deepest  and  devoutest  souls  that  ever 
lived,  but  a  host  of  his  views  on  these  matters 
are  impossible  to  us.     Our  time,   indeed,  is 
witnessing  a  development  of  the   moral  per- 
spective which  amounts  in  itself  almost  to  a 
revelation.     We  understand,  in  a  way  never 
realised  before,   that   morality  is,    above   all 
things,  the  science  of  right  living,  the  science 
of  procuring  the  fullest  life,  of  securing  the 
highest  type  of  man  and  woman.     And  this 
view  is  bringing  new  elements  into  the  question. 
We  see  now  what  Socrates  urged,  the  connection 
between  knowledge  and  ethics.     To  do  things 
best,  we  must  know  things  best.     Hence  more 
and  more  the  idea  will  prevail  that  ignorance, 


100  The  Eternal  Religion. 

unskill  in  things,  inasmuch  as  it  keeps  men  back 
from  the  higher  realisations,  is  in  itself  a  kind 
of  lower  morality.  Then  the  modern  mind  is 
being  more  and  more  penetrated  with  the 
relation  of  the  individual  to  the  social  organism. 
We  see,  as  M.  Bourgeois,  in  his  "  Solidarite," 
has  so  fully  expounded,  how  the  struggle  for 
individual  development,  while  the  first  con- 
dition and  the  initiative  of  all  progress,  becomes 
in  its  turn  part  of  a  vast  social  movement 
outside. 

With  this  all  admitted,  where  does  religion 
come  in  ?     Can   the  moral  movement  go  on 
without  it  ?     Here  comes  that  other  question 
which  we  propounded  :  "  What  do  we  mean 
by  religion  ?  "     We  have  seen  how  a  certain 
form  of  it,  and  that  very  intense  and  real  in  its 
way,  has  subsisted  and  does  subsist  alongside 
of  the  grossest  immorality.     That  is  one  fact. 
But  to  get  a  true  view  we  must  have  all  the 
facts.     And  another  of  them,  not  less  certainly 
established,  is  that  no  advance  in  morality  has 
been  made  apart  from  religion,     Man  has  never 
yet  been  kept  on  his  upward  line  by  mere 
scientific  propositions.     China  is  often  pointed 
to  as  a  country  which  has  subsisted  on  a  bare 
morality  ?     Has  it  ?     Is  Confucianism  a  bare 
morality  ?     Confucius   always   turned   to   the 
religious   motive   as   the   final   sanction.     He 
pointed  his  disciples  with  admiration  to  that 
wonderful  inscription  on  the  Golden  Statue  in 


The  Story  of  Morals.  101 


the  Temple  of  Light :  "  When  you  speak,  when 
you  act,  when  you  think,  you  seem  alone, 
unseen,  unheard,  but  the  spirits  are  witnesses 
of  all."  That  is  religion.  It  is  the  same 
religion — the  religion  of  the  unseen  presence — 
that  lay  back  of  the  best  in  Stoicism  and  gave 
it  its  strength.  The  French  revolutionaries 
tried  to  get  on  without  the  religious  motive, 
and  wound  up  with  Robespierre's  declaration 
that  if  God  did  not  exist  it  would  be  necessary 
to  invent  Him. 

Modern  thinking,  proposing  to  found 
morality  solely  upon  the  principles  of  human 
nature,  will  have  to  take  account  of  all  there 
is  in  human  nature.  And  one  of  the  first  things 
we  meet  there  is  the  necessity,  in  order  that  man 
may  come  to  his  true  self,  that  he  be  possessed 
by  some  thing,  some  one  beyond  himseK.  In 
one  of  Baudelaire's  prose  poems  we  have 
this  seemingly  wild  exclamation  :  "To  escape 
being  the  martyrised  slaves  of  the  hour, 
intoxicate  yourselves  !  Be  ever  intoxicated — 
with  wine,  or  poetry,  or  virtue,  as  you  will. 
But  be  ever  intoxicated  !  "  A  strange  outburst, 
yet  with  deep  truth  in  it.  Man  must,  to  reach 
his  best,  be  filled  with  something  not  himself. 
And  that  is  the  basal  truth  of  all  religion. 
It  is  the  topmost  truth  of  Christianity.  It  is 
where  the  personal  Christ  comes  in  as  its 
central  and  satisfying  fact.  Edmund  Spiess,  in 
his  "  Logos  Spermatikos,"  gives  an  exhaustive 


102  The  Eternal  Religion. 

comparison  between  the  ancient  Greek  ethics 
and  the  New  Testament  teaching.  He  finds 
that  almost  everything  said  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment has  been  taught,  in  one  form  or  another, 
by  the  philosophers  outside.  And  yet  ancient 
Greece  had  not  Christianity.  It  lacked  the 
personality  of  Christ. 

*"We  strike  here  the  clarif  jdng  fact  of  our  whole 
controversy.  A  true  morality,  we  have  said, 
requires  a  growing  knowledge.  But  to  be 
operative  it  demands  something  more.  It 
must  have  a  motive,  an  impelling  force. 
We  know  Matthew  Arnold's  definition  of 
religion — "  morality  touched  with  emotion.'* 
It  is  by  no  means  a  complete  definition,  but 
it  goes  a  long  way.  And  it  is  the  Christianity 
of  the  presence  of  Christ  that  gives  us  the  true 
morality  and  the  true  emotion.  In  Russia,  or 
England,  or  anywhere  else  where  religion 
may  be  more  or  less  dismembered  from  the  best 
living,  it  is  because  there  is  a  link  missing,  a 
lack  of  coherence  between  the  knowing  and 
the  feeling.  Where  the  Gospel  is  really 
understood  and  felt  it  has  always  uplifted  the 
morals.  Chalmers  in  his  early  days  preached 
morals  alone  and  with  no  moral  result.  He 
became  filled  with  the  love  of  Christ,  and  with 
that  power  behind  him  engraved  the  ethical 
precepts  on  the  heart  of  Scotland.  M.  Ville- 
main,  in  his  great  work  on  the  Fathers,  while 
recognisiijg  that  the  early  Church  lost  much 


The  Stoey  of  Morals.  103 

of  the  intellectual  treasure  of  the  Greeks, 
observes  that  it  was  more  than  compensated 
by  the  moral  force  which  Christianity  brought 
into  the  world.  The  heart  of  man,  as  he  truly 
says,  has  gained  more  in  this  discipline  than 
its  imagination  has  lost. 

To  sum  up  then,  in  the  Christianity  of  Christ 
we  have  the  best  solution  we  know  of  the 
problem  involved  in  "  religion  and  morals." 
We  have  here  the  highest  teaching,  combined 
with  the  highest  motive  for  following  it. 
"  Enivrez  vous,^^  says  our  Baudelaire.  The 
simple  Christian  has  a  better  sense  for  this 
than  had  Baudelaire.  He  has  the  best  sort 
of  possession.  Back  of  his  knowing  is  a  being, 
behind  the  ethic  a  force  to  translate  it  into  life. 
The  Church  of  to-day  will  gain  or  lose  power 
in  proportion  as  it  keeps  the  balance  between 
the  two  factors.  Its  exhortation  must  be 
crammed  with  ethic.  At  its  peril  may  it 
arouse  feeHng,  unless  it  use  it  as  the  way  to 
conduct.  Historic  Christianity  is,  as  we  have 
confessed,  full  of  moral  failures.  But  it  has  had 
also  the  most  magnificent  successes.  They 
have  always  come,  and  always  will  come, 
when  the  Gospel  in  the  fulness  of  its  moral  is 
combined  with  the  fulness  of  its  spiritual  power. 
The  modern  pulpit,  as  an  instruction  in  this 
whole  matter,  cannot  do  better  than  to  reread 
the  sermons  of  John  Wesley.  In  those 
wonderful    compositions,    examples    of    the 


104  The  Eternal  Religion. 

purest  English,  the  great  evangelist,  who  did 
more  for  England  than  all  the  eighteenth- 
century  thinkers  and  politicians  combined, 
offers  us  a  gospel  which  stirs  to  its  depths 
the  spiritual  passion,  and  then  turns  this 
force  to  the  performance  of  every  human 
duty.  The  Church  to-day  can  do  no  better 
than  to  copy  that  model. 


XII. 
On  Human  Perfection. 

One  dogma  of  the  eternal  religion  will  assuredly 
be   that   of  the   human  perfectibility.     There 
is,     one    may     say,     already       a     kind     of 
unanimity  about  it.     The  story  of  this  faith, 
and   of   the  efforts  and  struggles  it  has  occa- 
sioned,is,perhaps,  the  most  wonderful  in  history. 
Theists,     atheists,     Greek    philosophers     and 
evangelical    Christians,     Indian    Yogis      and 
Western  scientists,  have  found  here  a  meeting- 
place.     Condorcet,   who  rejected    Christianity 
as  a  supernatural  extravagance,  nevertheless 
put  forward  the  human  perfectibility  as  the 
centre  of  his  system.     There  is  nothing  more 
pathetic    in    literature    than    the    spectacle 
of  this  hunted  philosopher,  in  the  days  of  the 
"  Terror,"  in  daily  expectation  ot  the  guillotine, 
occupying  himself  with  his  treatise  on  "  The 
Progress    of    the    Human    Spirit."     On    the 
other  side  of  the  Channel  his  contemporaries, 
John  Wesley,  and  his  ally,  Fletcher  of  Madeley, 
ardent    evangelical    believers,    had    in    their 
doctrine  of  "  entire  sanctification  "  proclaimed, 

105  $ 


106  The  Eternal  Religion. 

with  a  vast  difference  of  accent,  substantially 
the  same  idea.     In  our  day  Nietzsche,  their 
completest  imaginable  contrast,  has  yet  obeyed 
the  same  inspiration  in  his  doctrine  of  the 
"  Overman,"  a  suggestion  which  Mr.  H.   G. 
Wells,   in  his  recent   "Food   of   the   Gods" 
story,  has  developed  into  weirdest  proportions. 
These  are  later  forms  of  a  quest  that  has 
been  in  the  world  from  the  beginning  of  time. 
Ever  has  floated  before  our  race  the  vision 
of  "the  perfect  man."     It  has  been  always 
felt   that    our   chief   significance   lay   in   our 
promise  of  something  better.     It  is  remarkable 
to  note  how  the   early  Chinese  philosophy, 
reckoned  as  the  most  prosaic  of  cults,  yet 
contained  in  it  the  thought  of  the  ideal  man, 
in  whom  both  sexes  and  all  other  men  existed, 
the  "  holy  one  "  in  whom,  as  it  were,  inhered 
the  body  spiritual  of  humanity.     The  East 
has  from  time  immemorial  sought  after  per- 
fection, and  always  in  one  way.     The  path 
was  that   of   the  ascetic.     The   Indian  Yogi 
believes  that  through  the  training  of  body 
and  spirit  enjoined  by  his  cult,  he  can  attain 
to  supernatural  powers.     On  the  same  quest 
we  find  in  Persia  the  followers  of  Mithras, 
living  in  closely  united  societies,  calling  each 
other  "  father  "  and  "  brother,"  having  rites 
of    baptism,    confirmation    and    communion, 
practising    continence,    self-control  and  self- 
denial,  believing  in  resurrection  and  the  soul's 


On  Human  Pebfection.  107 


immortality.  Their  life  was  one  long  aspira- 
tion towards  something  higher. 

In  the  West  the  idea  of  a  perfected  humanity 
has  been  equally  before  the  mind,  but  with 
a  characteristic  difference.  Plato,  in  the 
"  Republic,"  throws  out  the  suggestion,  ever 
since  caressed  by  philosophers,  and  notably 
in  recent  years,  that  human  perfection  should 
be  approached  by  scientific  methods  applied 
to  questions  of  birth  and  training.  We  can 
produce  enormous  developments  in  animal 
life  by  a  proper  selection  in  breeding.  Why 
not  apply  the  same  principle  to  man  ?  We 
know  the  Platonic  suggestions  on  this  head, 
and  the  way  they  have  been  reproduced  by 
modern  writers.  One  could  almost  have 
wished,  in  the  interests  of  experiment,  that 
the  Emperor  Gallienus  had  actually  carried 
out  that  scheme  of  his  of  building  a  city  to 
be  called  PlatonopoHs,  to  be  administered 
by  him  on  the  principles  of  the  "  Republic." 

The  problem,  however,  is  not  quite  so  easy 
as  the  theorists,  ancient  and  modern,  appear 
to  think.  What,  after  all,  is  human  excel- 
lence ?  It  is,  we  find,  a  marvellously  complex 
affair,  and  the  elements  of  it  are  distributed 
in  the  strangest  way.  We  have  physical 
giants  without  brains,  and  splendid  intellects 
on  puny  bodies.  A  healthy  physique  and 
acute  reasoning  power  may  go  with  a  hard 
heart,  while  an  angeHc  sweetness  and  patience 


108  The  Eternal  Religion. 


may  be  conjoined  with  mental  mediocrity. 
The  quahties  which  make  the  human  ideal 
are,  in  fact,  the  property  of  humanity  as  a 
whole,  and  not  of  any  separate  individuals. 
It  is  as  if  Nature  had  said  to  us,  "  No,  you  must 
grow  together  ;  for  you  are  one,  both  in  your 
weakness  and  your  strength.  Hand,  foot 
and  head,  body  and  soul,  individual  and 
society,  your  make  is  one,  and  one  must  be 
your  common  destiny." 

There  is,  however,  one  side  of  our  topic 
to  which  all  this  is  preliminary.  It  is  its 
definitely  Christian  aspect.  To-day  we  have 
put  to  us  in  a  very  precise  form  the  question, 
"  Should  Christians  be  perfectionists  ?  "  A 
school  of  evangelical  believers,  whose  personal 
character  and  service  entitle  them  to  our 
highest  respect,  offer  us  here  a  clearly-defined 
doctrine.  Their  principle  is  a  life  without 
conscious  sin,  maintained  in  us  daily  and 
hourly  by  the  abiding  presence,  through  the 
Spirit,  of  the  unseen  Christ.  For  this  con- 
tention they  quote  His  own  great  word : 
"Be  ye  therefore  perfect,  as  your  Father  in 
heaven  is  perfect,"  and  those  sublime  passages 
in  the  Epistles  which  speak  of  a  complete 
sanctification,  of  the  preserving  of  body,  soul 
and  spirit  blameless  unto  the  great  Coming. 
In  this,  as  we  have  already  suggested,  the 
school  is  following  largely  in  the  footsteps 
of  Wesley   and  Fletcher.     Students   of  their 


On  Human  Perfection.  109 

writings  will  remember  with  what  cogency 
they  insist  upon  an  entire  cleansing  in  this 
life  as  a  preparation  for  the  heavenly  life 
beyond.  What,  asks  Wesley,  has  death  to 
do  with  cleansing  ?  And  yet  the  majority 
of  Christians  seem  to  depend  upon  death 
as  the  one  preparation  for  the  perfect  life 
beyond !  Here  and  now,  he  concludes,  in 
the  will,  soul,  spirit,  is  the  preparation  to  be 
made ;  it  is  the  teaching  of  Scripture  and  of 
common-sense. 

And  assuredly  there  is  here  much,  very 
much,  with  which  all  believing  people  must 
agree.  Do  not  our  souls  leap  in  response 
to  Christ's  great  word  ?  Do  not  we  want 
to  share,  with  those  Thessalonians  to  whom 
Paul  wrote,  in  the  Spirit's  completest  work  ? 
And  is  not  the  thought  of  an  abiding  highest 
Presence,  on  whose  power  we  can  hourly 
lean,  for  resisting  evil  and  accomphshing 
good,  of  all  thoughts  the  most  inspiring  ? 
So  far  indeed  from  disagreeing  here,  our  plea 
would  be  for  a  fuller  insistence  by  all  sections 
of  the  Church  on  truths  at  once  so  plain  and 
so  ennobling. 

While  saying  this,  and  from  the  heart,  we 
find  this  teaching  susceptible  at  the  same  time 
of  a  certain  criticism.  And  the  criticism 
is,  not  a  repudiation  of  the  teaching,  but  a 
complaint  of  its  restrictedness.  What  it  lacks 
are   some   additions,    necessary   to    bring   it 


110  The  Etebnal  Religion, 

into  line  with  another  range  of  realities.  Its 
fault  has  been  in  the  failure  to  note  the  relation 
between  its  own  special  message  and  other 
truths  not  less  visible  and  not  less  important. 

To  begin  with.  While  to  aim  at  perfection, 
in  the  sense  of  sinlessness,  is  unquestionably 
a  duty  and  privilege  for  Christians,  does 
this  in  any  sense  imply  consciousness,  or  an 
actuality  of  sinlessness  on  their  part)  ?  Neither 
Scripture  nor  fact  imply  anything  of  the  kind. 
The  nature  of  things  is  entirely  against  it. 
For  when  we  talk  of  perf ection,or  of  sinlessness, 
we  must  remember  that  the  whole  thing 
depends  upon  our  ideal.  A  state  that  satisfies 
one  man's  conscience  will  not  satisfy  that  of 
another.  As  we  rise  in  the  scale  our  ideal 
rises,  the  perceptive  faculty  becomes  keener. 
A  room  in  which  a  short-sighted  person 
discovers  no  speck  of  dust  is  to  a  keener 
sight  in  quite  a  dusty  condition.  It  is,  we 
conceive,  with  our  moral  faculty  as  with 
other  faculties,  the  artistic,  for  instance. 
A  painter  who  had  seen  only  rustic  daubs 
might  be  entirely  satisfied  with  his  own 
performances.  Let  him  enlarge  his  view ; 
let  him  visit  the  great  galleries  and  see  the 
work  of  the  masters,  and  his  self-complacency 
becomes  self-disgust.  And  so  our  half-bred 
saint,  who  speaks  to-day  of  himself  as  being 
without  conscious  sin,  has  only  to  be  broadened 
a  little  in  his  view,  to  have  a  stronger  light 


On  HuaiAN  Perfection.  Ill 

thrown  on  bis  interior,  and  his  "  sinlessness  '* 
will  be  as  the  competency  of  our  untraveUed 
artist. 

And  this  leads  us  to  another  question — a 
root  question.  What  do  we  mean  by  "sin  " 
and  "  sinlessness "  ?  We  have  to-day  to 
revise  our  meaning  of  these  terms  as  we  have 
had  to  revise  our  meaning  of  the  word  *'  holi- 
ness." This  latter  word  we  now  recognise 
as  signifying  neither  less  nor  more  than 
"  wholeness."  It  means  the  full  equipment 
of  manhood,  the  highest  state  of  body,  soul 
and  spirit.  In  this  connection  we  are  coming 
at  last  to  understand  that  apostolic  word 
which  bids  us  "  add  to  our  faith  virtue,  and 
to  our  virtue  knowledge."  Here,  in  the  New 
Testament,  is  the  sanction,  to  an  extent 
at  least,  of  the  Greek  teaching  which  made 
knowledge  a  condition  of  virtue.  We  remem- 
ber how  Socrates  insisted  that  to  be  '*  good," 
in  any  practical  sense,  as  "  a  good  horseman," 
"  a  good  musician  "  and  so  on,  meant  that  a 
person  had  knowledge  and  skill  in  these 
matters ;  and  how  he  extended  this  view 
to  all  departments  of  virtue  and  moraHty. 
And  we  are  recognising  to-day,  with  a  new 
clearness,  what  truth  there  is  in  his  argument. 

We  see  at  once  how  this  view  relates  itself 
to  the  doctrine  of  sinlessness.  A  Christian 
man,  attending  church  and  reading  his  Bible, 
sincere  in  his  desire  for  the  best,  looks  into 


112  The  Eternal  Religion. 

himself  and  around  on  his  environment,  and 
rejoices  in  the  equilibrium  that  he  finds  there. 
It  is  a  peace  which  he  feels  is  divine.  He  is 
committing  no  conscious  sin,  and  he  thanks 
God  for  his  daily  preservation.  He  has  indeed 
much  to  thank  God  for.  But  is  this  sinlessness  ? 
If  you  mean  by  that  an  equation  between 
what  he  is  and  what  he  thinks  he  should  be, 
well  and  good.  But  on  a  larger  view  the 
word  is  seen  to  be  ridiculously  out  of  place. 
His  incapacity  to  see  his  huge  defects  is  in 
itself  a  fault.  To  the  extent  in  which  he 
is  untrained,  undeveloped — and  he  is  un- 
developed in  a  thousand  things — he  is  below 
his  possibility,  and  to  that  extent  sinful^ 
Sinful  we  say,  for  the  Greek  word  which  is  in 
our  New  Testament  means  by  sin  "a  missing 
of  the  mark,"  and  our  man,  in  all  these  ways, 
has  been  missing  the  mark. 

"Be  ye  perfect  "  is  our  word.  Yet  think 
of  the  "  perfection  "  of  our  fingers  as  com- 
pared with  those  of  a  Paderewski ;  of  our 
muscular  system  as  compared  with  that  of  a 
San  do  w  ;  of  our  scholarship  as  related  to  that 
of  a  Max  Miiller  or  of  a  Hamack  !  In  this 
one  realm  of  omissions,  of  failures  to  make 
the  best  of  our  faculties,  and  to  increase 
thereby  the  depth  and  height  of  our  being, 
how  enormous  is  the  lack  of  the  best  of  us, 
how  absurd  the  complacency  which  would 
regard  ourselves  in  such  aspects  as  "  perfect  "  I 


On  Human  Perfection.  113 

There  is  another  point  not  to  be  forgotten 
in  a  discussion  of  this  question.  It  is  that  we 
can  never  consider  human  perfection,  either 
in  a  general  or  in  a  theological  sense,  as  a 
question  of  the  individual  alone.  A  perfect 
man  requires  a  perfect  society.  We  cannot, 
howsoever  we  may  try,  get  away  from  our 
relation  to  the  brotherhood.  This  is  the  truth 
at  the  bottom  of  Socialism.  To  the  extent 
to  which  the  community  is  diseased,  we  are 
diseased.  We  cannot,  if  we  would,  shake 
off  our  solidarity.  We  have  seen  how  the 
different  perfections  are  scattered  over  the 
race.  We  are  great,  little,  growing,  dwindling, 
in  each  other.  We  can  taste  no  ultimate 
perfection  which  our  lowliest  brother  is  not 
to  share. 

To  sum  up.  The  Gospel  is  a  Gospel  of 
perfection.  To  its  ineffable  height  we  are 
all  of  us  called.  The  indwelling  Christ  is  for 
us  the  daily  victor  over  sin.  But  His  greatest 
work  in  us  is  to  open  incessantly  to  our  gaze 
the  new  depths  of  the  riches  of  His  calling, 
and  to  make  us,  in  the  light  of  that  great 
vision,  aware,  as  never  before,  of  the  poverty 
and  bareness  of  our  present  state,  and  athirst 
for  the  yet  untrod  altitudes  to  which  He 
points. 


XIII. 

Ethics  of  the  Intellect. 

We  have  spoken  of  morality  as  a  central 
feature  of  the  eternal  reHgion.  But  human 
morality  is  a  plant  of  strangely  irregular 
growth.  Man  has  moralised  himself  in  patches. 
Nothing  is  more  curious  than  to  observe  the 
diligence  with  which  one  part  of  us  has  been 
ethically  tended  as  compared  with  the  neglect 
visible  in  other  directions.  Society  has  great 
institutions  for  keeping  us  straight,  but  their 
jurisdiction  is  a  limited  one.  The  law  courts, 
for  instance,  deal  with  ethics  of  the  will  and 
of  action.  The  Church  so  far  has  had  to  do 
mainly  with  ethics  of  act  and  feeling.  It 
probes  deeper  than  the  law  court,  judging 
not  only  men's  evil  acts,  but  the  envy,  lust, 
avarice,  wrath,  hatred,  out  of  which  the  acts 
have  come.  But  there  remains  another  region 
of  human  life  for  the  regulation  of  which  no 
institution  at  present  exists,  and  the  laws  of 
which  are  stiU  very  much  to  seek.  It  is  the 
region  of  the  pure  intellect.  A  simple  state- 
ment of  how  the  facts  He  in  this  department 

lU 


Ethics  of  the'  Intellect.  116 

will  be  enough  to  show  that  throughout  long 
past  ages,  and  with  multitudes  of  earnest 
people  in  our  time,  there  has  been  no  such  thing 
as  an  ethic  of  the  intellect  at  all.  When  that 
ethic  does  arrive,  when  everybody  reaHses 
that  mental  morality  is  essential  to  every 
other  morality,  we  shall  get  some  very  different 
thinking,  leading  to  some  very  different  acting 
in  our  world,  and  not  least  amongst  those  who 
are  counted  specially  rehgious. 

Let  us  see  in  one  or  two  directions  how  the 
account  stands.    We  have  to  begin  with  a 
reservation.    There  will  never  be  an  ethic  of 
the  intellect  pure  and  simple,  because  there 
is  no  such  thing  in  human  nature  as  intellect 
pure  and  simple.    We  are  not  built  in  water- 
tight   compartments.    For    the    purposes    of 
analysis,  philosophers  divide  our  inner  con- 
sciousness into  sections  which  they  label  as 
reason,  feeling,  volition ;    but,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  these  are  never  found  alone.     Our  feehng 
is  always  more  or  less  charged  with  thinking, 
and  our  thinking  with  feehng .    The  one  may 
be  said  always  to  contain  the  other  in  solution. 
And,  as  we  shall  see,  a  morality  of  the  mental 
process    must,    as    a    consequence,    impinge 
continually  on  a  morahty  of  the  feeling.    But 
when  all  this  has  been  allowed  for,  there  remains 
in  the   action   of   the  human  reason,   taken 
separately,  a  sphere  of  ethics  which  demands 
a  far  more  diHgent  cultivation  than  has  hitherto 


116  The  Eternal  Religion. 

been  accorded  to  it,  if  maji  is,  in  the  inner  life, 
to  attain  to  his  highest  and  best. 

How  badly  we  are  in  need  of  a  new  code 
in  this  department  is  shown  by  the  way  in 
which  men  have  hitherto  treated  the  intellect. 
The  ideals  that  have  guided  them  in  other 
directions  have  here  completely  disappeared. 
Reformers  who  have  been  ready  to  shed  their 
blood  for  their  country's  freedom  have  turned 
with  horror  from  the  idea  of  liberty  as  applied 
to  their  reasoning  faculties.  Is  it  not  a  most 
singular  circumstance  that  while  the  word 
"  free  "  is  one  of  the  most  inspiring  in  the 
language,  the  word  "  freethinker "  carries 
to-day  with  multitudes  of  excellent  people  the 
most  opprobrious  of  significances  ?  And  yet 
what  thinking  is  valuable  that  is  not  free  ? 
One  might  suppose  that  the  human  reason 
were  some  mischievous  imp,  some  creation  of 
the  powers  of  darkness,  whose  action,  if  left 
unchained,  would  inevitably  be  evil  and 
deadly.  It  is  time  we  all  realised  that  the 
mind  in  its  most  unfettered  condition  is  as 
much  subject  to  law  as  are  the  tides  ;  that 
when  left  to  its  proper  action  the  results  of 
its  labours  are  always  and  everywhere  the 
slow  disclosure  of  ultimate  truth.  And  yet 
what  despite  has  been  done  to  this  perfect 
law  of  liberty  !  The  Church,  which  is  supposed 
to  be  the  guardian  of  morals,  has  been  in  this 
matter,  of  all  institutions,  the  most  unmoral. 


Ethics  of  the  Intellect.  117 

It  has  imagined  that  truth  could  be  secured 
by  force.  It  has  habitually  coerced  the 
reason.  The  mind  must  bow  before  the 
decisions  of  councils  and  of  popes.  How  odd 
all  this  to  people  who  read  history  !  Councils  ! 
But  the  councils  have  again  and  again  flatly 
contradicted  each  other ;  and  have  had  their 
decisions  declared  heretical  by  others  which 
succeeded  them  !  We  remember  Aries  and 
Milan,  which  pronounced  Athanasius  a  heretic 
and  declared  for  a  creed  which  the  later 
Church  emphatically  condemned.  Which  are 
we  to  believe  ?  And  popes  !  But  what  of 
infallible  popes  who  have  spread  heresy  ?  A 
Pope  Honorius,  for  instance,  who  taught  the 
Monothelite  heterodoxy,  for  which  he  was 
afterwards  excommunicated  by  an  (Ecumeni- 
cal Coimcil !  The  whole  business  here  is  a 
blunder.  It  is  time  we  recognised  that  coercion 
of  this  kind,  wherever  exercised,  and  by  what- 
ever authority,  is  a  damage  wrought  on  the 
most  delicate  and  valuable  portion  of  the 
human  machinery,  a  violation  of  the  ethic  of 
the  intellect. 

And,  then,  as  further  illustration  of  our 
mental  morality,  observe  the  estimate  which 
men,  the  best  of  their  time,  have  formed  of  the 
value  of  truth  !  It  would  seem  as  if  there  is 
no  lesson  which  humanity  has  been  slower  in 
learning  than  that  of  simple  veracity.  For 
ages  the  most  unpopular  of  cults  has  been^the 


118  The  Eternal  Religion. 

cult  of  the  plain  fact.  It  was  not  good  enough 
for  the  human  imagination,  especially  the 
Eastern  imagination.  Here  again  the  Church 
has  been  one  of  the  chief  sinners.  Religion, 
which  begins  with  emotion,  expressed  itself 
first  in  picture  and  symbol.  And  this  was 
well  enough  so  long  as  these  were  taken  at 
their  proper  value.  The  mischief  came  when 
imagination  was  exhibited  as  history  and 
enshrined  as  dogma.  We  may  allow  the 
allegorists  fullest  scope.  Venerable  Bede  may 
assure  us  that  the  text,  "  Elkanah  had  two 
wives,"  means  "  Elkanah  is  our  Lord  and  His 
two  wives  are  the  Sjoiagogue  and  the  Church." 
We  shall  not  be  much  the  worse  for  the  inter- 
pretation. But  it  is  different  when,  on  the 
most  vital  subjects,  fables  are  offered  us  as 
realities.  The  Anglican  divine,  Conyers  Midle- 
ton,  was  denounced  by  his  contemporaries 
as  a  heretic  for  declaring,  in  his  "  Free  Inquiry," 
that  the  reHgious  leaders  of  the  fourth  century 
had  condoned  falsehood,  had  allowed  wholesale 
forgery,  and  approved  pious  frauds.  To  the 
modern  critic  these  asservations  are  the 
commonplaces  of  ecclesiastical  history.  Church 
writers  of  those  days  considered  forgery  in  a 
"  good  cause  "  to  be  a  virtue.  "  I  did  it  for 
the  love  of  Paul,"  observes  one  of  them  as 
his  reason  for  issuing  his  production  under 
the  Apostle's  name.  And  this  habit  of  putting 
ecclesiastical  interests  before  the  truth  has, 


Ethics  of  the  Intellect.  119 

alas  !  survived  in  force  to  our  own  times. 
Maurice's  wonder  that  "  the  faith  of  scientific 
men  in  the  Bible  has  not  wholly  perished 
when  they  see  how  small  ours  is,  and  by 
what  tricks  we  are  sustaining  it,"  is  a  wonder 
for  which  to-day  we  find  too  abundant  justi- 
fication !  ReHgious  men  still  proclaim  their 
passionate  devotion  to  "  the  truth,"  "  the 
precious  truths,"  "  the  great  fundamental 
truths,"  without  daring  to  inquire  whether 
what  they  proclaim  is  true  at  all.  Religion  will 
never  set  itself  right  with  the  present  age,  and 
still  less  with  the  time  that  is  coming,  until  it 
has  purged  itself  of,  and  done  penance  for, 
this  age-long  and  deadly  infraction  of  the  ethic 
of  the  intellect. 

And  the  wrong  here  done  was  so  needless  ! 
As  if  inquiry,  the  freest  play  of  the  mind  on 
religion,  could  ever  damage  it,  or  damage 
humanity  !  Do  we  suppose  that  the  ultimate 
facts  and  forces  of  the  Gospel  can  lose  any  of 
their  value  by  being  better  understood  ? 
The  truth  is,  as  we  are  at  length  beginning  to 
discover,  that  it  is  only  after  giving  the  reason 
its  fullest  exercise  that  we  recognise  its  limits, 
and  come  upon  the  real  argument  for  faith. 
It  is  then  we  find  out  for  ourselves  that  there 
is  a  truth  undiscoverable  to  the  intellect  which 
reveals  itself  instead  to  the  heart.  It  is  thus 
that  Christianity  won  its  first  victories.  It 
conquered  men  not  as  a  syllogism,  but  as  a 


120  The  Eternal  Religion. 

spiritual  power.  The  truth  of  life  is  always 
deeper  than  logic,  and  here  was  a  truth  of  life. 
When  Aristides  in  his  "  Apology  "  says  of  the 
early  Christians  :  "  Wherefore  they  do  not 
commit  adultery,  nor  fornication,  nor  bear 
false  witness,  nor  embezzle  what  is  held  in 
pledge,  nor  covet  what  is  not  theirs.  Whatso- 
ever they  would  not  that  others  should  do  to 
them  they  do  not  to  others,"  he  is  exhibiting 
to  us  religion  in  its  true  quality  and  function 
as  a  power  to  purify  and  uplift.  In  presence 
of  a  force  like  this  we  are  in  contact  with  what 
is  beyond  our  mental  analysis,  so  far  as  we 
can  at  present  carry  it.  But  we  feel  here  the 
truth  of  the  thing  the  more  profoundly,  for 
the  very  reason  that  we  cannot  formulate  it. 
And  this  leads  us  to  another  point,  closely 
allied  to  the  foregoing.  We  have  spoken  of 
"  the  truth  of  life."  But  there  is  a  converse 
to  that.  It  is  in  the  relation  of  life  to  truth. 
What  has  often  been  lost  sight  of  in  argument, 
especially  on  the  materialistic  side,  has  been 
the  fact  that  certain  aspects  of  truth,  and  those 
of  the  highest  importance,  are  only  accessible 
to  certain  spiritual  states.  You  cannot  get 
the  Mont  Blanc  prospect  without  climbing  Mont 
Blanc.  The  rigid  ascetic  discipline  of  the  Neo- 
Platonists  was,  after  all,  only  an  exaggerated 
expression  of  the  truth  that  to  see  into  the 
spiritual  kingdom  you  must  have  a  clean  soul. 
The  intellect,  in  these  regions,  can  never  act 


Ethics  of  the  Intellect.  121 


by  itself.  One's  vision  must  come  to  the  whole 
man.  If  I  as  a  reasoner  about  religion  have 
not  learned  to  forgive,  to  love  and  to  serve,  I 
am  lacking  in  the  first  qualification  for  the 
business.  The  truth  here  is  only  known 
through  doing.  Zwingli  means  this  when  in  his 
**  True  and  False  Religion  "  he  says  :  "  Truth 
does  not  depend  on  the  discussions  of  men,  but 
has  its  seat,  and  rests  itself  invincibly  in  the 
soul.  It  is  an  experience  which  everyone  may 
have.'*  Gregory  Nazianzen  is  on  the  same  line 
in  his  exhortation  :  "  Ascend  by  hohness  of 
life  if  thou  desirest  to  become  a  theologian. 
Keep  the  commandments,  for  action  is  the 
step  to  contemplation."  "On  a  toujour s  la 
voix  de  son  esprit,''^  finely  says  a  French  writer. 
The  soul's  voice  is  the  expression  of  the  soul's 
state,  and  if  that  state  is  not  one  of  movement 
towards  the  highest,  it  can  never  catch  or 
interpret  the^Divine"voices. 

The  subject  has  endless  other  lines  of 
investigation  which  we  here  glance  at  without 
following.  A  study  of  this  kind  should,  for 
instance,  be  for  some  a  new  call  to  industry. 
What  are  we  doing  with  our  brains  ?  There  is 
no  such  waste  on  the  earth's  surface  as  the 
waste  of  mind  power.  We  have  not,  likely 
enough,  taken  even  the  trouble  to  find  out  what 
we  have.  It  was  by  mere  accident,  or  the 
pressure  of  necessity,  that  many  of  us  discovered 
what  there  really  was  inside  us.     Our  mind 

9 


122  The  Eternal  Religion. 

kingdom  is  wider  than  the  British  Empire, 
but  we  have  only  cultivated  as  yet  a  patch 
outside  our  kitchen  door.  What  are  we 
reading  ?  The  finest  literature  of  the  world — 
the  best  product  of  all  its  best  minds — is 
open  to  us.  What  time  do  we  devote  to  this 
high  fellowship,  or  is  our  reading-life  a  mere 
slushy  progress  through  literary  gutters  ? 

There  is  also  a  social  side  to  the  theme. 
The  ethic  of  the  intellect  needs  to  be  cultivated 
above  all  things  at  the  domestic  hearth.  No- 
where so  much  as  here  should  the  mind's 
action  be  so  carefully  watched.  Nowhere  so 
much  as  here  do  we  need  the  right  atmosphere 
of  feeling  in  which  the  intellect  may  do  its 
work  of  thinking.  For  the  people  around  us 
will  be  to  us  precisely  according  to  that  atmo- 
sphere and  that  thought.  They  will  vary  as 
these  vary.  A  French  writer  says  we  are 
never  just  except  to  those  we  love.  He  is 
right.  There  is  no  justice  outside  of  love. 
A  wife,  a  husband,  a  brother,  depend  for 
their  justice,  for  their  happiness,  on  the  way 
we  set  our  minds  towards  them.  They  cry 
to  us  to  look  for  the  good  in  them  ;  most  of 
all  for  that  hidden  good,  which  awaits  our 
loving  culture  to  nurse  it  into  life. 

In  sum.  The  ethic  of  the  intellect  unites 
in  the  demand  for  truth,  for  life,  for  love. 
But  the  greatest  of  these  is  love. 


XIV. 

Wealth  and  Life. 

One  of  the  results  of  the  new  idea  of  religion, 
as  the  whole  science  of  right  living,  is  the 
necessity  it  imposes  on  Christian  teachers  of 
broadening  their  studies.  In  this  view  all 
great  literature,  all  true  science,  are  a  part  of 
theology  and  belong  to  its  curriculum.  And 
quite  indispensable  as  a  branch  of  that  learning, 
lying  as  it  does  at  the  root  of  our  vast  social 
question,  and  forming  thus  an  integral  feature 
of  the  eternal  religion,  is  the  study  of  Political 
Economy.  The  religious  leader  of  to-day  is 
indeed  badly  equipped  who  is  not  familiar 
with  his  Adam  Smith,  his  Ricardo,  his  Mill, 
his  Sidgwick.  For  here  are  amassed  and 
arranged  for  him  facts  and  laws,  concerning 
the  individual  and  the  commimity,  which 
touch  his  special  business  at  every  point. 
Political  economy  has  been  called  the  Dismal 
Science.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  ignorance 
of  it  which  has  made  some  of  our  most  Dismal 
History.  What  Adam  Smith  and  his  suc- 
cessors had  to  teach  concerning  the  creation 

123 


124  The  Eternal  Religion. 


and  distribution  of  wealth,  the  relations  of 
land,  labour  and  capital,  the  theory  of  rent, 
the  laws  governing  currency  and  exchange, 
and  the  hundred  and  one  allied  topics,  forma 
a  branch  of  knowledge  with  which  the  Church, 
if  it  is  to  fulfil  its  function,  must  be  at  least 
as  familiar  as  is  the  world. 

But  one  of  the  chief  reasons  why  the  Chris- 
tian community,  as  such,  needs  to  interest 
itself  in  this  side  of  truth  lies  not  so  much 
in  the  lessons  it  has  to  learn  from  it  as  in  the 
lessons  it  has  to  teach.  When  Ruskin  began, 
from  his  own  standpoint,  to  discuss  these 
questions,  he  was  regarded  by  many  as  a 
fantastic  dreamer,  offering  cloudy  sentiment 
as  a  refutation  of  hard  fact.  To-day  we  begin 
to  see  things  differently.  His  criticism  is 
discovered  to  be  an  entirely  sound  one. 
The  eighteenth-century  economists  saw  a 
great  deal,  but  they  did  not  see  everything.  In 
treating  man  simply  as  a  wealth-creating 
machine  they  left  out  of  the  account  some  of 
its  biggest  factors.  They  forgot  that  man  is 
not  built  in  watertight  compartments,  and 
that  his  idealisms,  his  religious  aspirations, 
that  sphere  of  spiritual  power  whose  work 
upon  him  tends  to  change  his  whole  centre 
of  gravity,  cannot  be  left  out  of  the  economical 
calculation.  In  truth  the  earlier  political 
economy,  with  its  idea  of  seK-interest  as  the 
mainspring  of  activity,  with  its  laws' of  demand 


Wealth  and  Life.  125 

and  supply,  of  buying  in  the  cheapest  and 
selling  in  the  dearest  market,  was  exactly 
like  a  theory  of  the  world  which  should  deal 
accurately  with  inorganic  forces — ^with  gravita- 
tion, cohesion  and  so  on — but  all  the  while 
ignored  the  vast  realm  of  organised  life  above. 
Life  is  influenced  at  every  point  by  the  law  of 
gravitation,  but  we  should  understand  it  very 
imperfectly  if  we  knew  no  others.  The  old 
economy  is  in  fact  a  science  of  the  lower  laws. 
It  deals  always  with  man  as  he  is,  not  with 
what  he  is  to  be  ;  it  takes  no  account  of  the 
upper  forces  which  are  making  him  something 
different  and  higher.  What  then  the  reHgious 
teacher  has  to-day  for  his  task  is,  after  acquaint- 
ing himself  thoroughly  with  this  under  sphere 
of  things,  to  open  it  up  to,  and  relate 
it  definitely  with,  that  realm  of  the  spiritual 
powers  which  alone  can  produce  the  true 
human  society. 

Such  a  study  will  give  us  some  sure  results, 
and  should  dissipate  a  good  many  mischievous 
notions.  It  will,  for  instance,  in  no  degree 
diminish  our  sense  of  the  value  of  wealth. 
It  will,  instead,  clarify  our  view  of  its  position 
and  function.  We  shall  realise,  in  the  words 
of  a  modern  writer,  that  "  money  is  com- 
pressed force,"  and  force,  especially  "  com- 
pressed force,"  is,  we  know,  not  a  matter 
to  be  trifled  with.  And  there  is  a  legitimate 
enjoyment  in  wealth.     Who  that  has  known 


126  The  Eternal  Religion. 

at  once  the  pinch  of  poverty  and  the  sense  of 
abundance,  but  can  honestly  sympathise 
with  Sydney  Smith's  confession  that  "  he 
felt  happier  for  every  guinea  he  gained "  ? 
Indeed,  theology  here  must  come  to  the  same 
conclusion  as  economics.  For  if  God  be  at  once 
the  supremely  Holy,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  Possessor  of  all  things,  there  can  be  no 
intrinsic  evil  in  wealth.  We  are,  indeed,  in  a 
very  rich  universe,  with  invitations  scattered 
over  every  yard  of  its  surface  to  enter  boldly 
and  partake.  The  real  question  here  is,  "  On 
what  terms  and  for  what  end  ?  " 

And  here  we  come  straight  upon  Ruskin's 
great  governing  proposition,  that  "  there  is  no 
wealth  but  life."  We  are  here,  that  is,  not 
ultimately  for  the  purpose  of  heaping  up  riches, 
but  to  live  the  great  life.  Wealth,  then,  is  not 
wealth  unless  it  ministers  to  life.  The  pro- 
position is,  indeed,  self-evident.  A  career, 
whether  it  be  of  twenty  or  of  ninety  years, 
is  in  the  final  analysis  the  sum  of  its  thoughts, 
its  feelings,  its  deeds.  To  get  the  best  in  these 
kinds  is  to  have  truly  lived.  To  secure  these 
things  in  the  largest  degree  for  the  community, 
is  the  one  worthy  aim  of  the  teacher  and 
leader  of  men.  It  is  only  as  property — 
material  having  of  whatsoever  kind — ministers 
to  this  result  that  it  is  of  value.  Where  it 
hinders  this  result  its  influence  has  to  be 
regarded   as    mischievous.    The   only   stand- 


Wealth  and  Life.  127 

point,  then,  from  which  we  can  properly  study 
the  problem  of  wealth,  is  the  standpoint  of  life. 
And  what,  pray,  is  Life  ?  We  are  learning 
some  new  things  about  it  to-day.  In  an 
admirable  little  work  by  Mr.  Hibbert  on 
*'  Life  and  Energy,"  the  author  arrives  by 
scientific  demonstration  at  the  thesis  that 
life  is  not  in  itself  a  form  of  energy,  but  rather 
*'  a  non-factorial  director  of  energy."  He 
shows,  too,  that  life  is  the  ultimate  basis  of 
morals  ;  that  the  moral  is  always  that  which 
furthers  the  development  of  life,  and  the 
immoral  that  which  depresses  and  retards  it. 
In  the  idea  of  life,  also,  is  summed  up  not  only 
our  present  morality,  but  all  our  future 
prospect.  We  do  not  yet  know  to  what 
further  stages  its  development  will  reach. 
The  miracle  of  our  present  consciousness  may 
be  only  the  veriest  foretaste  of  what  is  yet  to 
be.  There  seems  an  infinitude  of  untouched 
resource  wrapped  up  as  yet  in  its  secret  place, 
and  which  the  coming  ages  are  yet  to  unfold. 
How,  then,  is  wealth  related  to  life  ?  As  we 
look  into  this  question  we  discover  that,  over 
at  least  a  wide  aspect  of  it,  the  answer  seems 
mainly  to  be  a  negative  one.  When  we  ask 
what  makes  up  the  best  thinking,  feeling  and 
doing,  we  find  only  a  slender  relation  to  pounds, 
shillings  and  pence.  We  are  in  questions 
here  of  bodily  health,  of  good  air,  of  hard  work, 
of  inner  training,  of  a  soul  tuned  to  the  infinite. 


128  The  Eternal  Religion. 

But  these  things  are  all  possible  to  poverty 
as  well  as  to  riches.  Fresh  air,  outside  the 
towns  at  least,  can  be  had  for  the  opening  of 
one's  mouth.  Physical  vigour  is  nowhere 
a  millionaire's  monopoly.  The  health-giving 
food,  as  doctors  are  everywhere  now  preaching 
to  the  rich,  is  the  simplest  food.  The  moneyed 
classes  are  being  told  that  they  are  destroying 
themselves  by  over-eating  and  drinking.  Dr. 
Abernethy's  "  live  on  sixpence  a  day  and  earn 
it "  is  declared  to  be  the  true  philosophy. 
Splendid  bodies  and  brains  have  been  built 
up  on  Scotch  porridge,  a  diet  within  easy 
reach  of  most  of  us.  And  hard  work,  the 
natural  heritage  of  every  Adam's  son,  is 
not  difficult  to  find.  Amid  all  the  frantic 
strivings,  defeats  and  disappointments  of 
the  modern  world,  it  is  something  surely 
to  have  this  one  point  fixed  in  our  minds, 
that  the  highest  attainable  life,  the  finest 
thinking,  feeling  and  doing,  are  by  Nature's 
immutable  laws  annexed  to  the  simplest 
and  plainest  natural  conditions. 

Why  then  is  it,  with  all  this  demonstrably 
true,  that  the  modern  man  struggles  so 
desperately  and  sacrifices  so  enormously  in 
order  to  amass  wealth  ?  The  answer  is  simple. 
It  flings  us  back  upon  that  earlier  definition  : 
money  is  compressed  force.  Men  seek  riches 
because  they  seek  power.  The  mansion,  with 
its  retinue  of  servants,  is  probably  less  com- 


Wealth  and  Life.  129 


fortable  to  live  in  than  the  cottage,  but  the 
owner  knows  that  the  size  of  all  this  passes 
somehow  into  the  word  he  speaks  to  his 
fellow,  and  commands  his  attention.  In  a 
materialistic  age,  especially,  wealth  is  the 
supremest  energy.  It  can  carry  you  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth  ;  it  can  open  the  door  to 
every  circle  of  Society  ;  it  can  buy  the  very 
thoughts  and  souls  of  men.  How  to  its  very 
core  did  pagan  Rome,  the  most  materialistic 
of  civilisations,  feel  its  power  !  Witness  that 
word  of  Horace  :  "  Et  genus  et  virtus  nisi 
cum  re  vilior  alga  est."  Both  birth  and  virtue 
without  property  are  cheaper  than  seaweed. 
And  that  companion  word  of  Juvenal :  "  Omnia 
Romae  cum  pretio,"  "  Everything  at  Rome 
has  its  price." 

It  is  precisely  here  that  wealth  under 
existing  conditions  threatens  life.  It  is  amongst 
ourselves  beginning  to  choke  and  to  suppress 
life's  higher  manifestations.  As  a  single 
illustration  take  the  case  of  literature  and 
journalism.  The  prostitution  of  letters  in 
the  service  of  Mammon  is,  of  course,  no  new 
thing.  In  the  Renaissance  time  Aretino 
excuses  himself  for  his  indecencies  by  the 
remark  :  "  Why  write  serious  books  ?  Amuse- 
ment and  scandal  are  the  only  things  that 
pay."  He  is  echoed  by  Des  Periers,  who 
observes  :  "  Let  us  write  some  vile  thing  and 
we  shall  find  a  bookseller  who  will  give  ten 


130  The  Eteenal  Religion. 

thousand  crowns  for  the  copy.'*  Indecency 
is  not  precisely  the  danger  of  our  day,  though 
in  some  quarters  there  is  enough  of  it.  What 
the  modern  world  has  to  fear  is  the  choking 
of  its  thought  by  the  money  interest.  The 
independence  of  the  Press  is  being  threatened 
by  trust  combinations  in  England,  and  even 
more  formidably  in  America.  Here  is  a 
shadow  that  is  stealing  over  the  entire  modern 
world.  Imagine  the  Press  of  England  con- 
trolled by  a  Rand  syndicate  !  The  whole 
intellectual  life  of  the  country  purchased  by  a 
ring  of  alien  company  promoters  !  Yet  things 
are  tending  this  way.  It  may  well  be  that 
before  long  the  modern  Press,  in  the  interests 
of  its  own  life  and  of  all  that  is  best  in  civilisa- 
tion, will  have  to  realise,  as  the  Church  did 
of  old,  that  to  be  of  any  true  service  its  base 
must  be  spiritual,  its  members  an  apostolate, 
content  to  live,  if  need  be,  on  bread  and 
water,  if  that  be  the  price  at  which  alone 
they  may  speak  the  highest  that  is  in  them  ! 
In  the  long  run  the  problems  of  wealth 
and  life  will  adjust  themselves,  and  we  are 
beginning  to  see  how.  The  clue  to  the  solution 
will  be,  as  we  have  said,  in  accepting  life- 
development  as  always  the  highest  end. 
The  soul  must  first  of  all  be  free  in  order  that 
it  may  grow.  The  gold  tyranny  that  seeks 
to  fetter  it  must  at  all  costs  be  broken.  And 
that   can   only  be  by   the  uprising   of   men 


Wealth  and  Life.  131 

whose  minds  are  not  to  be  bought ;  who  will 
speak  naught  but  the  truth,  though  they 
starve  in  the  process.  And  these  men  must 
to-day  speak  the  truth  about  wealth.  They 
must  show  that  in  the  method  of  its  procuring, 
of  its  distribution,  and  of  its  enjoyment,  no 
law  shall  be  broken  that  concerns  the  further- 
ance of  life.  To  this  end  the  wealth  must  be 
equitably  distributed.  The  beauty  it  creates, 
the  energies  it  sets  in  motion,  the  art,  the 
literature,  the  enjoyment  it  promotes,  must 
be  held  as  not  the  appanage  of  a  few,  but, 
in  as  far  as  the  ultimate  conditions  permit, 
the  inheritance  of  all.  The  end  is  that  not  a 
clique  or  a  caste,  but  man  himself  is  to  be 
wealthy ;  a  being,  that  is,  dowered  with  all  the 
capacity  of  being,  doing  and  possessing  that 
is  commensurate  with  the  magnificent  place 
assigned  to  him  in  the  scheme  of  the  world. 


XV. 
A    Layman's  Religion. 

Will  the  eternal  religion  be  a  layman's 
religion  or  the  religion  of  the  priest  ?  The 
question  receives  curious  illustration  from 
a  controversy  on  "Do  We  BeHeve  ?  " 
which  some  time  ago  filled  day  after  day 
the  columns  of  one  of  our  English  news- 
papers. A  distinguishing  feature  of  the  contro- 
versy was  the  fact  that  it  was  so  largely 
the  utterance  of  the  British  layman.  As  a 
rule,  he  is  not  addicted  to  speech  on  these 
subjects.  On  this  occasion,  however,  he  cast 
aside  his  reticence,  cleared  his  throat,  and 
said  his  say.  And  it  was  the  layman's  voice 
that  was  listened  to.  The  clerical  deliverances 
on  the  question  were  not  in  the  front  rank  of 
interest.  The  words  that  sunk  deepest  into 
the  public  mind  were  those  of  medical  men,  of 
sailors,  of  lawyers,  of  policemen,  of  City 
people — of  people,  that  is,  in  the  thick  of 
secular  affairs,  who  discussed  religion  from  the 
standpoint  of  simple  manhood,  and  not  from 
that  of  a  professional  interest. 

132 


A  Layman's  Religion.  133 

And  the  feeling  which  showed  itself  in  this 
instance  is  visible  to-day  in  other  directions 
as  well.     The  words  men  listen  for  as  deter- 
minative in  matters  of  belief  are  not  those  of 
the  episcopate  or  of  other  members  of  the 
hierarchy.     The  clergy  themselves  wait  on  the 
utterances  of  a  Lord  Kelvin,  of  a  Sir  Oliver 
Lodge,  on  their  own  subject,  with  a  deference 
that  the  bench  of  bishops  is  quite  unable  to 
command.     The  clerical  testimony  to  religion 
is,  in  fact  and  inevitably,  taken  with  a  certain 
discount.     The  ecclesiastic,  it  is  felt,  is  com- 
mitted to  a  certain  position  and  cannot  help 
himself.     Amongst   the   working   classes   this 
view  of  things  is  especially  widespread,  and 
accounts   largely   for   their   present    coolness 
towards  Christianity  and  the  Churches.  There 
is  no  doubt  as  to  the  fact,  but  many  of  us, 
both  inside  and  outside  the  Church,  have  not 
yet  taken   the   trouble   to  understand  what 
the  fact  means,  nor  the  conclusions  to  which  it 
points.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say,  however,  that 
the  whole  fortune  of  the  Churches  and  of  Chris- 
tianity depends  on  the  way  in  which,  in  the  future , 
the  fact  is  comprehended  and  acted  upon. 

It  is  by  an  instinct  which  is  essentially 
sound  that  the  clergy,  as  such,  are  at  a  dis- 
count as  a  religious  witness.  The  reason  is 
that  in  so  far  as  they,  as  a  class,  are  separated 
from  the  laity,  they  are  in  a  false  position. 
Their  position  is  false  at  once  historically  and 


134  The  Eternal  Religion. 


by  the  nature  of  things.  For  primitive 
Christianity  was  essentially  a  layman's  religion. 
It  was  this,  in  part,  which  constituted  its 
utterly  revolutionary  character.  Against  all 
precedent  and  usage  here  was  a  faith  with  a 
layman  for  its  Founder  and  laymen  for  its 
first  propagators.  Jesus  had  no  connection 
with  the  clerical  order,  nor  had  His  followers. 
Not  one  of  His  first  disciples  was  in  any  sense 
a  "  reverend  gentleman."  The  virulent  op- 
position of  the  Jewish  ecclesiastics  was  largely 
a  trades  union  opposition.  A  religion  without 
priests  and  sacrifices  was  to  them,  not  only 
the  most  daring  of  innovations  ;  it  meant 
destruction  to  the  privileges  and  emoluments 
of  their  order.  No  wonder  at  the  priestly 
hue  and  cry,  or  at  the  final  tragedy  at  Jeru- 
salem. Calvary  was,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Judsean 
"  cloth,"  fit  punishmtnt  for  the  unheard  of 
insolence  of  a  lay  religion.  A  way  to  God  that 
dispensed  with  sacrifices  and  with  the  hierarchy 
must  be  necessarily,  to  the  hierarchs  them- 
selves, the  most  damnable  of  heresies. 

During  the  first  period  after  the  death 
of  its  Founder,  Christianity  still  held  to  this 
distinctive  and  wholly  revolutionary  feature. 
The  New  Testament  religion  is  from  beginning 
to  end  a  lay  religion.  The  teaching  of  Jesus, 
as  preserved  by  that  first  society,  is  a  religion 
of  the  common  life.  As  Wernle  puts  it,  "  Christ 
will  have  the   sanctification   of   life  in   the 


A  Layman's  Religion.  135 

world,  the  sanctification  of  one's  calling, 
one's  everyday  life,  one's  work,  within  the 
limits  of  human  society.  All  the  demands 
that  Jesus  makes  are  set  up,  not  for  monks 
and  ascetics,  but  for  men  in  the  world." 
And  the  society  was  constituted  on  a  lay 
basis.  As  a  great  missionary  organisation 
it  had,  of  course,  a  teaching  function,  but 
there  is  not  anywhere  discernible  so  much 
as  the  flutter  of  a  sacerdotal  robe.  There 
are  elders,  overseers,  prophets,  evangelists, 
deacons,  "  helps,"  "  ministries,"  but  there 
are  no  priests.  We  hear  of  no  clerical 
garments.  The  apostles  dressed  like  other 
men.  It  is  a  curious  feature  of  the  present 
situation,  that  the  robes  worn  to-day  by  the 
Roman  priests  at  the  altar  are  a  survival  of  the 
ordinary  lay  dress  of  the  first  period.  It  is  an 
unwitting  testimony  by  the  sacerdotalist  to  the 
non-sacerdotal  character  of  his  predecessors. 

But  the  primitive  Christianity  did  not 
last.  In  what  followed  that  first  stage  we 
have  the  greatest  perversion  in  history.  The 
new  was  conquered  by  the  old.  The  pure 
stream,  leaping  from  the  utmost  heights, 
fell  into  the  sluggish  river  below,  to  take  its 
colour  and  to  follow  its  course.  The  Horatian 
verse  which  speaks  of  Rome  as  having  con- 
quered Greece  by  arms,  to  be  itself  conquered 
by  the  Grecian  arts,  is  the  story  also  of  the 
new  faith's  contact  with  old-world  custom  and. 


136  The  Eternal  Religion. 

tradition.  The  two  forces  in  their  contact 
each  gave  something  to  the  other.  What 
Christianity  gave  was  vital  and  could  never 
be  destroyed.  But  in  taking  it  the  systems 
of  the  immemorial  past  exacted  their  rights, 
and  the  toll  was  a  heavy  one.  As  a  result 
of  the  compromise  we  have  in  the  following 
centuries  a  Christianity  which  is  an  amalgam 
of  the  teaching  and  life  of  Jesus  with  the 
priestism  and  clericaUsm  with  which  Judaism 
and  heathendom  had  combined  to  endow  it. 
Christianity  had  ceased  henceforth  to  be  a 
layman's  religion. 

How  the  change  worked  is  now  a  matter 
of  history.  That  this  bastard,  unauthorised 
priesthood  produced  great  characters  no  one 
acquainted  with  the  story  would  for  a  moment 
deny.  The  Jeromes,  the  Augustines,  the 
Bernards  were  men  of  whom  the  world  was 
not  worthy,  to  whom  all  succeeding  ages 
are  indebted.  It  would,  indeed,  be  out  of 
place  to  exclaim  too  excitedly  against  the 
course  which  things  took  in  mediaeval  Christen- 
dom. It  is  better,  perhaps,  to  recognise 
that  this  was  the  course  which  the  world,  in  its 
inner  evolution,  had  to  take.  The  nature 
of  things  and  the  human  limitations  made  it 
inevitable.  Human  perfection  is  a  long  way 
off,  and  the  road  to  it  is  circuitous.  It  was 
necessary  that  men  should  have  their  experi- 
ment  and  see  how  their  amalgam  worked. 


A  Layman's  Religion.  137 

We  can  trace  the  result  now  with  some 
certainty. 

Priesthood  and  monkhood,  in  all  their 
degrees,  were  alike  the  assertion  of  the  same 
principle — the  principle  of  separation,  of  a 
class,  a  caste,  theoretically  superior  in  Christian 
privilege,  function  and  authority  from  the 
commonalty.  It  was  the  principle  of  religious 
professionalism.  Its  first  result  was  upon 
the  clergy  themselves.  Great  saints,  we  have 
said,  were  to  be  found  in  their  ranks,  but  the 
general  condition  was  deplorable.  What  a 
picture  is  that  which  Jerome  draws  of  the 
Roman  clergy  in  his  day,  flattering  rich 
matrons,  spending  the  day  in  calls  at  grand 
houses  ;  of  monks  gaining  favour  with  the  rich 
by  pretended  austerities,  while  they  repaid 
themselves  with  nightly  revelry.  And  matters 
did  not  improve  with  the  years.  Could  there 
be  anything  more  terrible  as  a  revelation  of 
manners  than  Walter  de  Map's  satire  of 
*'  Bishop  Goliath  "  in  the  twelfth  century  ? 
Yes,  there  is  worse  even  than  that.  It  is  found 
in  the  records  of  the  Black  Book,  the  publica- 
tion of  which  sealed  the  doom  of  the  English 
monasteries.  Thus  was  it  with  the  clergy. 
It  fared  worse  with  the  laity,  who,  shut  off 
from  their  heritage  of  responsibility  and 
service,  were  lost  for  centuries  to  vital  religion. 

The  Reformation  was,  for  one  thing,  a  revolt 
against   all    this ;     an   endeavour    to    make 

10 


138  The  Eternal  Religion. 


Christianity  once  again  a  layman's  religion. 
In  the  century  preceding  it,  in  the 
words  of  J.  R.  Green,  "  Pope  and  king, 
bishop  and  noble,  vied  with  each  other  in 
greed,  in  self-seeking,  in  lust,  in  faithlessness, 
in  a  pitiless  cruelty.  .  .  .  Religion  and 
morality  passed  out  of  the  hands  of  the  priest- 
hood into  those  of  the  laity."  The  gist  of 
Protestantism  was  in  this,  that  the  layman 
had  once  more  found  his  soul.  He  had 
opened  the  New  Testament  to  discover  with 
astonishment  and  delight  a  religion  without 
the  priest.  That  discovery  produced  the 
Puritan  and  the  Huguenot,  the  sturdiest 
manhood  of  these  later  ages.  Well  may 
Carlyle  say  of  them  :  "It  is  a  fruitful  kind 
of  study,  that  of  men  who  do  in  very  deed 
understand  and  feel  at  all  moments  that  they 
are  in  contact  with  God,  that  the  right  and 
wrong  of  this  little  Hfe  has  extended  itself 
into  eternity  and  infinitude.  It  is  at  bottom 
my  religion  too." 

The  vital  religious  movements  ever  since 
have  been  essentially  laymen's  movements. 
Zinzendorf,  the  founder  of  the  Moravian 
community,  was  a  layman.  John  Wesley 
obtained  his  most  vivifying  spiritual  experi- 
ence from  his  contact  with  Peter  Bohler,  the 
Moravian,  also  a  layman.  And  Wesley's  first 
preachers,  with  whom  he  woke  up  England, 
were    a    band    of    laymen.     To-day    General 


A  Layman's  Religion.  139 


Booth's  vast  evangelising  work  the  world  over 
is  conducted  by  lay  people.  D.  L.  Moody, 
the  greatest  missioner  of  our  generation,  was 
a  layman.  France  to-day  would  not  be,  as  it 
is,  in  revolt  against  Christianity  were  it  not 
that  in  expelling  its  Huguenots  three  centuries 
ago  it  thrust  from  its  borders  the  exponents 
of  and  witnesses  to  a  laymen's  religion,  leaving 
the  land  the  prey  to  a  professionalism  which 
the  nation  refuses  any  longer  to  endure. 

Here  are  the  facts,  or  some  of  them.  But 
to  what  do  they  lead  ?  Are  we  to  conclude 
from  them  that  Christianity  is  better  without 
any  separated  order  ;  that  in  view  of  the  evils 
of  clericalism,  we  are  to  do  away  with  a  clergy  ? 
That  by  no  means  follows.  Ahusus  non  tollit 
vsum.  This  would  not  be  primitive  Christi- 
anity, which  certainly  had  its  separated 
ministries.  It  stands  to  commonest  sense  that 
a  religion  which  rests  on  teaching  must  have 
teachers,  and  that  teaching,  to  be  continuous 
and  effective,  must  have  its  specialists. 

But  what  primitive  Christianity  and  all 
the  later  history  do  teach  is  plain  enough. 
Clericalism  as  an  evil  can  only  be  avoided  by 
putting  the  teaching  order  on  the  primitive 
basis.  It  is  to  be  ever  of  the  people,  and  with 
the  people  and  for  the  people.  SacerdotaUsm 
contends  that  ecclesiastical  authority  comes 
from  above  and  not  from  beneath.  It  is 
conferred   by   the   episcopate,   which,   in   its 


140  The  Eternal  Religion. 

turn,  by  apostolic  succession,  has  received 
it  from  the  Church's  Head.  With  the  highest 
Churchmen  we  too  believe  in  an  authority 
which  comes  from  above.  The  true  teacher  and 
spiritual  leader  has  ever  his  vocation  from  on 
high.  It  begins  there  between  his  soul  and  God, 
most  august  of  commissions  and  of  consecra- 
tions. But  thus  commissioned  he  stands  there 
amongst  his  brethren,  of  and  with  them  always, 
his  note  union,  and  never  separatism. 

All  sections  of  the  Church  have  to  relearn 
this  lesson  if  they  are  going  to  save  religion 
for  the  people.  Nonconformists  not  a  few 
need  to  learn  it  afresh.  Let  them  be  done 
for  ever  with  dressings  up  and  gestures  and 
postures.  There  is  a  professional  smile  and  a 
professional  tone  that  are  ahke  detestable. 
Let  rehgious  speech  be  with  blunt  simplicity 
and  sincerity.  Let  the  teacher  be  one  with 
the  common  life  of  the  people.  Let  him 
never  by  any  assumption  of  his  own  permit 
the  business  man  to  suppose  that  his  partici- 
pation in  the  duties  of  the  Divine  kingdom 
has  been  transferred  to  other  shoulders.  In  a 
word,  let  Christianity,  with  its  organisation 
and  its  teaching  faculty,  resume  its  place 
as  a  layman's  religion  ;  let  the  great  Layman, 
its  first  Teacher,  be  permitted  once  more  to 
exhibit,  without  veil  or  intermediary.  His 
Divine  life  and  doctrine,  and  again,  as  of  old, 
the  common  people  will  hear  Him  gladly. 


XVI. 
Religion  and  Art. 

A  FEATURE  eternally  associated  with  the 
eternal  reHgion  is  its  expression  in  art.  The 
story  of  the  relation  here  is  often  a  complicated, 
and,  at  times,  a  very  puzzling  one,  yet  crammed 
at  every  point  with  interest  and  suggestion. 
There  have  been  periods  when  art  has  seemed 
to  ignore  the  religious  feeling,  and  when,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  religious  feeling  has 
ignored  art.  But  despite  attempts  and  surface 
appearances  there  has  never  been  any  real 
divorce.  There  cannot  be.  Religion  will  go 
on  producing  art,  and  art  will  go  on  representing 
religion,  because  they  both  belong  to  one  and 
the  same  nature  of  things.  The  artist,  qua 
artist,  is  religious.  He  may  do  nothing  but 
genre  pictures,  landscapes,  flower  and  fruit 
pieces,  portraits,  with  never  a  suggestion  of 
so-called  sacred  history  or  symbolism.  But 
in  so  far  as  he  is  a  genuine  painter,  his  work  is, 
we  say,  religious,  for  its  success  from  first  to 
last  lies  in  its  conformity  to  a  law  which  is 
divine.    He    is    a    disciple    of    an    eternally 

141 


142  The  Eternal  Religion. 

ordained  truth  of  things  in  the  sphere  of  colour 
and  form,  and  would  be  a  failure  there  if  he 
were  other  than  this. 

Yet  this  relation  has  varied  enormously 
in  successive  ages.  The  earhest  art,  wherever 
we  go,  is  rehgious.  Man  from  the  beginning 
has  been  an  inveterate  symbolist.  Behind 
his  rudest  constructions  in  this  line  an  arriere 
pensee  lingers.  Is  it  not  wonderful,  this 
instinct  which  invests  some  rudest  block — 
the  black  Kaaba  stone  at  Mecca,  the  sandstone 
and  granite  monoliths  at  Stonehenge — with  a 
mystical  significance  ?  Beginning  so  humbly, 
art  in  the  earher  civilisations  blossoms  out 
into  the  most  elaborate  forms,  but  always  in 
the  service  of  religion.  In  Babylon,  Egjrpt, 
Greece,  it  was  for  the  temple  and  the  statue  of 
the  god  that  the  artist  wrought.  And  we 
may  well  believe  that  those  early  workers, 
as  they  reared  the  Parthenon  or  carved  the 
statue  of  Jupiter,  had  beneath  their  technique 
a  genuine  inspiration.  They  had  in  them 
surely  some  stir  of  that  feeling  which  makes 
Plato,  in  the  Symposium,  break  out  in  hia 
glorious  rhapsody  on  the  Eternal  Beauty : 
**  What  would  it  be,  then,  were  it  granted  to 
any  man  to  see  very  Beauty  clear — incorrup- 
tible and  undefiled,  not  mingled  with  colour 
or  flesh  of  man,  or  with  aught  that  can  consume 
away,  but  single  and  divine  ?  "  They  saw 
what  Athenagoras,  the  Christian  father,  has 


Religion  and  Art.  143 


so  finely  expressed  :  "  For  beauty  on  earth  is 
not  self-made,  but  sent  hither  by  the  hand 
and  will  of  God." 

And  yet  it  is  here  that  one  of  those  curious 
puzzles  meets  us  in  the  story  of  religion  and 
art.  How  comes  it  that  in  the  times  and 
among  the  peoples  where  the  reHgious 
sentiment  has  been  at  its  highest,  the  feeling 
and  the  production  of  art  have  been  at  the 
lowest ;  and  that,  contrariwise,  the  periods 
of  the  greatest  artistic  splendour  have  been 
marked  so  often  by  the  utmost  depravation  of 
morals  and  reUgion  ?  There  is  no  doubt  as 
to  the  facts.  The  Christian  history  here  is 
a  remarkable  one.  On  the  one  side  we  may 
remark  three  distinct  periods  where  the 
reHgious  claim  has  been  felt  to  its  utmost, 
and  where  at  the  same  time  the  artistic 
sentiment  seemed  either  to  be  non-existent  or 
under  ban.  These  were  the  first  age  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  Puritan  age,  and  the  time  in 
England  of  the  Evangelical  revival.  The 
first  Christian  generation  had  its  apostles, 
its  prophets,  its  teachers,  its  martjnrs,  but  not 
its  artists.  So  barren  was  it  in  this  direction 
that  we  have  no  authentic  portrait  of  Christ. 
The  early  fathers  are  in  flat  contradiction, 
even,  as  to  His  appearance  ;  some,  as  Justin 
Martyr,  Clement  of  Alexandria  and  TertulHan, 
declaring  Him  devoid  of  human  comeHness, 
while  others,  as  Jerome  and  Augustine,  speak  of 


144  The  Eternal  Religion. 


His  transcendent  beauty  of  aspect.  Eusebius 
mentions  a  statue  of  Him  at  Csesarea  Philippi 
which  he  himseK  saw,  but  of  which,  however, 
he  gives  no  description.  One  would  like,  in 
this  confusion,  to  think  that  the  wonderful 
face  in  Leonardo  da  Vinci's  "  Last  Supper  "  is, 
as  tradition  holds  it  was,  the  copy  of  a  real 
portrait. 

The  broad  fact  remains,  that  for  centuries 
after  the  Advent  Christendom  had  no  art, 
in  the  sense  in  which  a  Greek  understood  the 
word.  There  was  no  room  in  it  for  a  Phidias 
or  a  Praxiteles.  It  did  not  appear  to  include 
among  the  virtues  the  cult  of  physical  and 
visible  beauty.  When  at  last  the  picture  was 
introduced  into  churches  it  was  as  a  concession 
to  the  ignorance  of  the  people — that  it  might 
be  to  them  a  simpler  lesson-book.  As  Pope 
Gregory  I.  has  it,  "  therefore  the  picture  is 
used  in  churches  that  those  who  are  ignorant  of 
letters  may  at  least  read,  by  seeing  on  the 
walls,  what  they  cannot  read  in  books." 
And  the  pictures  were  most  of  them  terrible 
daubs.  What  art  had  come  to  in  those 
times  is  illustrated  by  a  decree  of  the  second 
Council  of  Nicaea,  in  which  it  is  laid  down  that 
the  painter  must  have  nothing  to  do  with  the 
inspiration  or  idea  of  a  picture,  but  only  with 
its  execution.  "It  is  not  the  painters,  but 
the  holy  fathers  who  have  to  invent  and 
dictate.     To    them    manifestly     belongs    the 


Religion  and  Art.  145 


composition,  to  the  painter  only  the  execu- 
tion." 

Puritanism  and  early  Methodism  seem  only 
to  have  repeated  this  story.  The  Scotch 
Presbyterians  and  the  Cromwellian  Ironsides 
would  have  none  of  an  artistic  religion. 
They  threw  the  pictures  out  of  the  churches, 
trampled  on  the  ornaments,  broke  the  stained 
windows,  and  whitewashed  the  walls.  The 
organ  is  to  this  day  in  many  places  taboo  in 
Scotland.  And  the  early  Methodists,  "  filled 
with  the  Spirit,"  saw  no  connection  between 
their  vocation  as  saints  and  that  of  the  painter 
and  sculptor.  They  turned  from  an  orna- 
mental worship  to  the  barest  simplicity. 
Their  clothing  was  in  itself  a  cult  of  plainness. 
There  is  a  story  of  a  young  Methodist  preacher 
*'  out  West,"  of  excellent  character  and 
ability,  but  whose  brethren  were  sorely  exer- 
cised about  him  because  of  the  grace  and 
physical  beauty  of  his  appearance.  They 
insisted,  as  a  condition  of  acceptance,  that 
he  should  cut  his  hair  shorter  and  wear  clothes 
of  an  older  fashion.  They  had  no  use  for 
comeliness. 

And,  as  we  have  said,  on  the  opposite  side 
there  is  this  other  puzzle  :  that  the  periods 
of  highest  art  have  been  again  and  again 
those  of  moral  and  religious  decadence.  The 
standing  illustration  here  is,  of  course,  the 
Renaissance.     The  period  which  gave  to  art 


146  The  Eternal  Religion. 

Da  Vinci's  "Supper,"  Raphael's  "Trans- 
figuration," the  Vatican  frescoes,  and  St. 
Peter's,  was  the  period  of  the  Borgias  and  of 
Leo  X.,  a  time  of  utter  pyrrhonism  in  belief 
and  of  unbridled  licence  in  morals.  Perugino 
and  Da  Vinci  were  sceptics,  and  Raphael  was 
a  rake.  One  has  to  study  the  contemporary 
records  to  get  an  idea  of  the  enormous  orgies 
of  the  time.  But,  you  say,  "  these  men 
painted  religious  subjects  !  "  They  did,  but 
often  enough  the  "  sacred  "  picture  had  not  a 
particle  of  reHgious  sentiment  in  it.  We 
admire  these  productions  as  art,  but  not  as 
religion.  Rubens's  "  Descent  from  the  Cross  " 
is  magnificent  in  form  and  colour  ;  but  it  is 
a  pagan,  not  a  Christian  splendour.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  the  "  Christ  in  the  Pharisee's 
House "  of  Paul  Veronese.  It  is  really  a 
brilliant  sixteenth-century  banquet.  Com- 
pare either  of  these  works  with  the  "  Adoration 
of  the  Lamb  "  of  fifteenth-century  Van  Eyck, 
or  with  the  work  of  the  ecstatic  Fra  Angelico, 
the  man  who  fainted  from  emotion  as  he 
painted  Christ  upon  the  Cross  !  In  these  you 
have  not  only  form  and  colour,  but  the  expres- 
sion of  souls  that  are  penetrated  with  the 
innermost  mystery  and  power  of  the  Gospel. 

Here,  then,  altogether  is  a  curious  tangle. 
What,  with  a  history  like  this  before  us,  is 
the  true  relation  between  art  and  religion  ? 
Does   high  religion   banish   art,   or  high   art 


Religion  and  Art.  147 

banish  religion  ?  Or  is  the  history  a  mere 
jumble  of  opposites  with  no  uniting  principle 
beneath  it  ?  We  believe  in  neither  of  these 
propositions.  One  has  to  take  a  large  view 
here,  a  wide  survey  of  facts.  It  is  a  survey 
which  shows  us  that  even  Christianity,  taken 
historically,  has  been  only  one  of  the  educators 
of  humanity.  Religion  and  beauty  are  twin 
sisters,  but  they  seem  to  have  been  put  out 
to  different  nurses,  and  in  their  after  career 
to  have  travelled  so  far  afield  as  hardly  at  first 
sight  to  be  able  to  recognise  each  other. 
Christianity  came  to  us  through  the  Hebrew 
race,  and  artistic  culture  was  not  in  its  depart- 
ment. The  Greek  here  had  a  mission 
denied  to  the  Jew.  Each  had  something 
from  God  without  which  the  other,  and 
humanity  at  large,  would  not  be  complete. 

That  is  part  of  the  story.  But  there  is 
another  thing.  The  peoples  we  have  men- 
tioned, the  early  Christians,  the  Puritan 
Nonconformists,  the  eighteenth  -  century 
Methodists,  who  in  their  intense  reaHsation  of 
religion  tabooed  art,  were  mainly,  let  us  re- 
member, of  the  poor  and  uncultured  classes. 
"  Not  many  great,  not  many  noble,"  were 
called.  No  miracle  was  wrought  in  the 
mental  structure  of  these  people.  The  moral 
regeneration  they  had  undergone  was  not 
meant  to  be,  and  did  not  become,  a  substitute 
for  those  ages  of  culture  which  in  other  races 


148  The  Eternal  Religion. 


and  classes  had  produced  the  artistic  feeling. 
Let  us  further  remember  that  for  centuries 
Christianity  was  struggling  with  the  barbarism 
of  those  Northern  peoples  who  had  flooded  the 
Roman  Empire  and  stamped  out  its  civiUsation. 
The  history,  rightly  read,  shows  really  no 
contradiction.  Art,  instead  of  being  opposed 
to  rehgion,  is  one  of  its  inevitable  products. 
For  goodness,  as  Joubert  says,  "  is  the  be- 
ginning of  beauty."  Its  full  development  is 
only  a  question  of  time.  The  early  Christian, 
the  Puritan,  the  Methodist,  had  the  whole 
thing  within  them  for  which  the  highest  art 
strives.  It  was  only  that  they  had  not  the 
means,  nor  the  development  required,  to  put 
it  aU  into  form.  They  knew  also,  what  the 
truest  art  knows,  that  the  deepest  within 
them  could  never  be  put  into  any  visible 
form.  These  men  were  artists  in  the  great 
way  ;  they  reahsed  with  Milton,  that  the  true 
poem  is  a  life,  that  the  noblest  creations  are 
in  the  sphere  of  character  and  the  soul.  And 
that  external  beauty  which  they  eschewed, 
as  inferior  to  this  inner  lovehness,  and  as 
alUed  so  often  with  moral  rottenness,  they 
yet  believed  in.  In  those  visions  of  the 
Apocalypse  which  formed  part  of  their  inner 
nurture,  they  recognised  the  final  imion  of 
spiritual  and  physical  beauty,  the  alliance  of 
the  inner  hoHness  with  the  splendours  of  the 
heavenly  city. 


Religion  and  Art.  149 

It  is  the  business  of  the  present  day,  taught 
by  this  marvellous  discipline,  to  bring  these 
great  life  factors  into  a  yet  more  visible 
harmony.  We  want  artists,  skilled  not  only 
in  that  divine  law  of  form  revealed  to  Greece, 
but  in  that  diviner  law  of  the  soul  which  was 
opened  to  men  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 
We  want  an  architecture  as  sublime  as  that  of 
the  old  cathedrals,  but  expressing  that  higher 
note  of  life  which  they  do  not  possess,  that 
greater  freedom,  that  joy  in  Hving,  that  sense 
of  boundless  possibility  which  is  opening  as 
part  of  the  religion  of  our  time.  We  want  a 
combined  culture  which  shall  secure  us  what 
Plato  held  to  be  the  perfection  of  humanity, 
a  beautiful  soul  in  a  beautiful  body.  Art 
and  religion  will  reach  their  true  unity  when 
man,  radiant  in  his  spiritual  perfection,  shall 
look  out  upon  a  Paradise  world  which  reflects 
that  inner  splendour. 


XVII. 

Nature  the  Preacher. 

For  decades  past  it  has  happened  with  some 
of  us  that,  somewhere  in  the  youth  of  the 
year,  a  day  has  dawned  which  has  sent  us 
straight  to  our  Wordsworth.  Certain  Hnes 
of  his,  and  the  morning  we  have  waked  upon, 
seem  predestinated  for  each  other  : 

It  is  the  first  mild  day  of  March, 
Each  moment  sweeter  than  before, 

The  redbreast  sings  from  the  tall  larch 
That  stands  beside  our  door. 

We  feel  *'  a  blessing  in  the  air,'*  and  that 

One  moment  now  may  give  us  more 

Than  fifty  years  of  reason ; 
Our  minds  shall  drink  at  every  pore 

The  spirit  of  the  season. 

As  we  try  to  analyse  the  delight  with  which  spring 
fills  us,  we  find  the  matter  becoming  at  every 
moment  wider  and  deeper.  The  finest  joy  of 
the  season,  we  perceive,  is  a  religious  joy.  The 
spell  we  are  under  is  of  an  eloquence  which  we 
cannot  call  ecclesiastical — that  were  too  narrow 
a  word — but  which,  nevertheless,  is  Divine. 

•150 


Nature  the  Preacher.  151 

The  spell,  we  say,  is  religious.  It  bids 
us  talk  of  a  certain  preacher.  In  Church 
circles  a  chief  topic  has  always  been  the  advent 
of  new  preachers.  The  coming  of  a  person- 
ality of  the  first  order,  who  devotes  his  powers 
to  the  exposition  of  life's  deepest  things,  is 
ever,  and  rightly,  felt  as  an  event.  There  are 
preachers  who  spring  into  prominence  at  a 
bound.  Others  take  long  in  maturing ; 
remaining,  maybe,  in  some  obscure  corner 
for  years,  until  the  significance  of  their  message 
begins  to  dawn  upon  men.  We  propose  here 
to  speak  of  a  preacher  of  this  latter  order  ; 
one  who  has  been  long  in  the  world,  but  who 
nevertheless  may  be  said  to  have  only  lately 
"  arrived."  The  preacher  is  Nature.  Only 
lately  arrived  we  say,  for  it  is  within  the  last 
generation  or  two  that  people  have  begun 
to  wake  to  the  proper  sense  and  feeling  of  the 
message.  For  long  centuries  men  have  been 
clamouring  in  the  name  of  their  various 
dogmatisms,  and  thereby  drowning  effectually 
the  utterance  of  this  finer  voice.  It  is  quite 
lately  that  it  has  occurred  to  them,  and  only 
then  to  a  small  number,  to  cease  from  shouting 
and  to  take  instead  to  listening.  To  these  has  at 
last  come  the  suggestion  of  a  time  of  silence,  of 
waiting  upon  this  other  preacher,  while  she 
opens  her  fact  and  argument  upon  them,  as 
just  now  the  most  fruitful  of  disciplines.  On 
them  in  fact  it  has  dawned  that  here  the  eternal 


152  The  Eternal  Religion. 

religion  finds  its  profoundest  interpreter. 
How  slow  has  been  the  process  of  her  recog- 
nition will  appear  when  we  compare  modern 
thinking  and  feeling  on  her  subject  with  that 
of  the  earlier  world.  It  would  seem  as  if  in 
these  days  we  have  grown  a  new  sense — the 
sense  of  Nature.  As  Walter  Pater  puts  it  : 
'*  An  intimate  consciousness  of  the  expression 
of  natural  things,  which  weighs,  listens, 
penetrates,  where  the  earlier  mind  passed 
roughly  by,  is  a  large  element  of  modern 
poetry."  He  might  have  said  of  the  modern 
consciousness.  There  are  entire  literatures 
that  up  to  a  late  period  have  ignored  the 
countryside.  Is  it  not,  by  the  way,  a  remark- 
able thing  that  in  the  whole  New  Testament 
there  is  only  one  voice  that  seems  to  recognise 
the  world's  beauty  ?  St.  Paul  travels  through 
the  most  magnificent  scenery.  He  crosses 
the  iEgean,  he  traverses  the  Taurus  mountains, 
he  looks  upon  "  the  isles  of  Greece,"  but  there 
is  no  hint  in  his  letters  that  he  had  even 
noticed  them.  It  was  left  to  his  Master  to 
read  Nature.  To  Him  her  voice  was  Divine. 
The  sun,  the  flower,  the  bird  of  the  air  were 
symbolic,  sacramental.  He  delighted  in  her 
beauty  as  one  who  read  her  secret. 

Theology  has  in  this  matter  followed  more  in 
the  footsteps  of  Paul  than  of  Jesus.  Here 
and  there  has  appeared  a  tranced  soul,  a 
St.  Francis,  a  Jeremy  Taylor,  who  revelled 


Nature  the  Pbeacher.  153 

in  Nature,  felt  her  beauty,  seeing  always  the 
spiritual  shining  behind.  A  Calvin  even 
astonishes  us  with  that  great  word,  *'  Pie  hoc 
potest  dici  Deum  esse  Naturam."  (One  may 
say  with  reverence  that  God  and  Nature  are 
one.)  He  was,  perhaps,  thinking  of  that 
noble  utterance  of  Seneca  :  "  The  whole  uni- 
verse which  you  see  around  you,  comprising 
all  things  both  Divine  and  human,  is  one. 
We  are  members  of  one  great  body."  But 
ecclesiasticism  as  a  rule  has  turned  a  blind  eye 
and  a  deaf  ear  to  our  preacher,  and  taught  the 
world  to  do  the  same.  This  indifference  of 
the  past  to  what  is  our  greatest  inspiration  is 
indeed  difficult  to  understand.  We  are  amazed, 
for  instance,  in  studying  French  literature,  to 
find  that  Rousseau  is  the  first  who,  as  Sainte 
Beuve  has  it,  "  puts  green  fields  into  it." 
It  was  quite  a  revelation  to  Frenchmen  when 
Rousseau  wrote  thus  of  a  country  walk : 
*'  The  view  of  the  coimtry,  the  succession  of 
pleasant  prospects,  the  open  air  .  .  .  the 
distance  from  everything  which  reminds  me 
of  my  dependence,  from  everything  which 
recalls  my  personal  situation  to  me — all  this 
frees  my  spirit,  gives  audacity  to  my  thought, 
throws  me,  as  it  were,  into  the  immensity  of 
things,  which  I  can  combine,  choose  from, 
appropriate  without  trouble  and  without  fear, 
and  act  as  master  of  all  Nature."  We  have 
travelled  far  since  then.     We  have  reached,  to 

11 


154  The  Eternal  Religion. 

a  degree  not  dreamed   of   by   our   ancestors, 
what  may  be  called  the  cosmic  consciousness. 
Nature    has    become,    as    never    before,    a 
preacher  to  us,  the  most  formidable  rival  to 
all  other  preachers.     These  last,  indeed,  need, 
above  all  things,   to  get  instruction  in  her 
school.     Her    "  Lessons    on    Preaching "    are 
the  best  extant.     This  orator  has  something 
for  every  capacity  ;  her  word  for  the  little 
child,    her    problem    for    the    deepest    mind. 
She  clothes  her  truth  in  beauty,  she  adorns 
it  with  infinite  illustration.      Robert  Hall  used 
to  read  everything  in  order  that,  on  the  topics 
handled,   he   might   always   be  ahead   of   his 
hearers.   Nature  is  always  ahead  of  her  hearers. 
Behind  her  baldest  commonplaces  are  depths 
of  meaning  which  no  plummet  can  sound.  This 
is  the  teacher  that  never  tires  her  audience. 
Every  day  she  has  something   fresh.     What 
holds  us  to  her  is  her  infinite  suggestiveness. 
What  she  offers  is,  we  always  feel,  only  a  lure 
to  what  she  conceals.   Ruskin  says  of  art  "that 
nothing  is  satisfying  that  is   complete  ;  that 
every  touch  is  false  that  does    not   suggest 
more  than  it  represents."   Nature  is  here  the 
supreme  artist.   What  draws  us  is  her  mystery, 
her  perpetual  hint  of  the  something  behind. 

But  does  this  preacher  teach  anything ; 
and  if  so,  what  is  her  doctrine  ?  Is  it  the 
ecclesiastical  dogma — an  affirmation  of  the 
Thirty-nine  Articles  ?     It  would  require  some 


Nature  the  Preacher.  155 

hardihood  to  affirm  it.  The  teaching  seems 
rather  to  be  enigmatical,  occult.  It  has  had 
divers  interpretations,  some  of  which  it 
would  be  hard  to  reconcile.  Thoreau,  one 
of  the  most  devout  worshippers  at  the  shrine, 
declares  the  preacher  to  be  absolutely  non- 
committal. The  wisest  man,  he  says,  follow- 
ing her,  ''teaches  no  doctrines;  he  has  no 
scheme  ;  he  sees  no  rafter,  not  even  a  cobweb 
against  the  heavens.  It  is  clear  sky.  The 
perfect  God  in  His  revelations  of  Himself 
has  never  got  to  the  length  of  one  such  pro- 
position as  you  His  prophets  state."  There 
are  many  voices  to-day  to  that  effect.  The 
Church  view  that  man  has  a  special  position 
in  the  universe  is  held  as  shattered  by  modern 
science.  The  position  here  is  wittily  voiced 
by  Fontenelle,  who  observes  that  "  the  human 
way  of  thinking  the  world  made  for  us  reminds 
one  of  a  certain  Athenian  limatic  who  imagined 
that  every  vessel  that  entered  the  Piraeus 
belonged  to  him."  Are  we  then  to  pronounce 
Nature  as  a  preacher  unorthodox  ?  Is  she 
a  denier  of  the  Church's  doctrine  ?  Is  Nature's 
one  affirmation  that  of  Nature's  supreme 
indifference  ?  Has  man  in  affirming  his  value 
in  the  universe  acted  like  the  ancient  alchemists 
who  found  gold  in  their  crucibles  because 
they  had  themselves  put  it  there  ? 

Fresh  from  their  new  study  of  the  universe, 
men  have  been  of  late  asking  these  questions 


156  The  Eternal  Religion. 

with  a  persistence  which  reveals  the  intensity 
of  their  inner  perturbation.  Certainly  we 
find  we  are  not  so  wise  as  we  once  thought. 
We  can  no  longer  take  ourselves,  as  was  said 
of  a  famous  divine,  "  as  of  God's  privy  council." 
There  are  more  open  questions  than  we 
imagined.  Yet  Nature  has  some  definite 
teachings  for  us,  and  that  upon  the  vital 
points.  The  net  result  of  them  is  to  upset 
some  earlier  judgments,  to  make  some  things 
less  sure  than  they  seemed  to  be  ;  yet  to  give 
us,  on  themes  about  which  the  soul  has  craved 
for  hght,  some  new  and  blessed  affirmations. 

For  one  thing  she  has  taught  us  that  life 
is  fundamentally,  divinely  simple,  and  yet 
the  most  complicated  business  in  the  world. 
Simple,  so  that  little  children  and  ignorant 
races  that  have  never  read  books  have, 
generation  after  generation,  drunk  her  draught 
and  found  no  hurt.  And  yet  the  infinite 
complexity  !  For  as  our  mind  opens  we  find 
life  to  have  in  it  a  million  things,  each  one 
related  to  ourselves,  each  one  with  its  own  laws, 
laws  which  we  must  learn  and  obey  if  we 
would  get  life's  blessing,  and  not  its  curse. 
Life,  we  find,  is,  from  beginning  to  end,  cause 
and  effect,  seed-sowing  and  harvest,  the 
harvest  being  according  to  the  seed.  No 
pulpit  thunder  has  ever  declaimed  this  truth 
with  an  impressiveness  equal  to  that  of 
Nature  as  interpreted  by  science.     The  modem 


Natxjee  the  Preacher.  157 

mind  has,  under  this  regime,  had  drilled  into 
it  the  inexorableness  of  the  reign  of  law 
more  than  by  the  lightnings  of  Sinai. 

But  Nature  as  studied  to-day  has  another 
teaching,  not  less  definite.  She  has  a  doctrine 
not  only  of  law  but  also  of  grace.  Her 
punishments,  her  retributions,  are  severe,  but 
they  are  never  final,  never  hopeless  for  the 
criminal.  Here  her  doctrine  runs  counter 
to  some  of  our  earlier  theology.  Butler, 
amongst  others,  founded  an  argument  which 
rested  on  an  imperfect  study  of  his  question. 
In  the  "  Analogy  "  he  points  us  to  Nature  as 
giving  example  of  certain  courses  which,  if 
unchecked,  lead  finally  to  irremediable  ruin. 
We  know  now  that  there  is,  in  Nature  at  least, 
no  irremediable  ruin.  For  there  is  no  ending 
that  is  more  than  a  new  beginning.  The 
uttermost  clash  of  worlds  were  only  a  fresh 
start  of  her  combinations  and  her  energies. 
She  has,  indeed,  a  special  grace,  all  her  own, 
for  the  ruined.  She  has  a  way  of  making  them 
comfortable.  Our  worn-out  coat  is  the  one 
we  like  best,  because  we  cannot  spoil  it. 
When  we  are  wet  to  the  skin  we  walk  entirely 
at  ease,  for  we  can  get  no  wetter.  At  the 
bottom  you  can  tumble  no  farther.  Nature 
is  exhaustless  in  her  patience  as  healer  ;  and 
her  very  ruins  are  consolations.  Has  this 
no  bearing  on  the  ultimate  human  fate  ? 
We  pity  the   man  who  can  study  this  aspect 


158  The  Eternal  Religion. 

of  things  without  seeing  the  meaning  of  the 
parable. 

We  put  into  a  single  paragraph  a  phase 
of  the  theme  that  needs  a  study  to  itself. 
When  we  ask,  "Does  Nature  teach  theology, 
teach  Christianity  ?  "  we  have  in  reply  to 
remember  that  Nature  here  must  include 
human  nature,  the  human  story,  and  all  that 
it  contains.  That  man  is  what  he  is,  that  he 
has  thought  his  thought  and  done  his  deed  ; 
that  he  stands  here  to-day,  with  his  religion 
in  him,  with  his  ceaseless  question,  his  eternal 
aspiration — this  is  all  to  be  taken  into  account 
in  our  gospel  of  Nature.  As  to  Christianity, 
if  we  are  evolutionists,  it  is  impossible  for  us 
to  suppose  that  the  life  and  faith  it  stands  for 
came  by  chance  or  accident,  that  they  were  other 
than  inevitable  in  the  onward  course  of  things. 
If  God,  whom  Calvin  speaks  of  as  one  with 
Nature,  is  ever  to  have  speech  with  man  it 
must  be  by  becoming  incarnate.  In  man  alone 
on  this  planet  has  the  Eternal  Reason  emerged 
into  consciousness  ;  in  man  alone  has  that 
Reason  broken  into  thought  and  speech.  And 
the  New  Testament  is  in  this  sense  a  part  of 
Nature,  showing  us  its  spiritual,  inner  side, 
shining  in  divinest  light,  revealing  its  most 
intimate  secret  of  love.  Nature  the  preacher 
performs  her  most  gracious  oflSice,  deUvers  her 
supreme  teaching,  in  pointing  us  beyond  her 
visible  to  an  Infinite  Goodness  and  Grace  behind. 


XVIII. 
Behind  the  History. 

A  GREAT  part  of  religion  is,  and  always  will 
be,  wrapped  in  history.  Partly  on  this 
account  history,  to  some  of  us,  becomes  more 
and  more  a  fascination.  The  story  of  man 
and  of  his  environment  is  one  of  which  we  can 
never  tire.  He  is  the  only  intelligence  with 
whom,  so  far,  we  have  come  into  visible  con- 
tact, and  we  want  so  much  to  know  what  this 
brother  soul  of  ours  thought  and  felt  as  he, 
in  the  far  past,  trod  this  old  earth  and  looked 
upon  the  sun.  The  smallest  hints  he  has 
left,  whether  in  the  cuneiform  inscriptions  of 
Syria,  or  the  rock  drawings  in  Rhodesia,  or 
the  clay  libraries  of  Babylon,  are  aHke  precious. 
We  are  thankful  beyond  words  to  the  men  who 
tell  us  something  of  their  time.  Even  where, 
as  with  a  Livy  and  a  Herodotus,  the  account 
is  stuffed  with  legends,  it  is  for  us  full  of 
instruction.  The  legend  at  least  shows  us 
how  men  of  that  day  conceived  things.  When 
our  historian  is  at  once  a  philosopher  and  a 
recorder  of  contemporary  events,  as  Thucy- 

159 


160  The  Eternal  Religion. 

dides,  we  get  in  his  pages  perhaps  the  best 
reading  there  is. 

But  there  are  so  many  ways  of  reproducing 
the  past.  Is  it  not  an  extraordinary  thing 
that  India,  with  its  vast  mentality,  with  its 
ages  of  theological  and  metaphysical  thinking, 
has  yet  produced  no  history  ?  The  Hindoo 
mind  has  been  so  absorbed  with  the  Infinite 
that  the  mere  finite  conditions  of  human 
living  have  not  seemed  to  it  worth  recording. 
And  yet  in  its  systems  we  have  given  us, 
perhaps,  a  more  vivid  idea  of  the  innermost 
soul  of  India,  of  its  entire  attitude  to  the 
universe  and  to  life,  than  we  could  have 
obtained  from  whole  libraries  of  Court  news. 
It  is  not,  indeed,  the  chroniclers,  the  Froissarts, 
the  De  Commines,  helpful  though  they  be, 
who  give  us  the  deepest  insight  into  the  things 
they  speak  of.  We  are  reminded  here  of 
Leigh  Hunt's  remark:  "I  felt,  though  I  did 
not  know,  till  Fielding  told  me,  that  there 
was  more  truth  in  the  verisimilitudes  of  fiction 
than  in  the  assumptions  of  history."  A 
Shakespeare,  a  Scott,  though  they  may  be 
free  enough  at  times  with  their  facts,  will 
make  a  period  alive  and  moving  for  us  far 
more  than  the  dry  purveyor  of  names  and 
dates.  It  is  often  the  small  details,  especially 
if  they  come  from  the  inside  view,  that  teach 
us  more  than  the  big  events.  We  want  not 
only  Austerlitz,  but  the  gossip  of  a  Madame 


Behind  the  History.  161 

de  Remusat  to  understand  Napoleon;  the 
chatter  of  a  De  Chaulieu,  as  well  as  the  tomes 
of  a  Boasueb,  to  realise  the  time  of  the  Grand 
Monarque. 

Yet  the  more  we  study  written  history  the 
more  dissatisfied  are  we  with  it  as  a  real  record 
of  what  has  actually  happened  on  this  planet. 
We  feel  all  the  time  that  we  are  only  on  the 
outer  edge  of  reality.  The  thing  itself,  and 
the  thing  said  about  it,  are  all  so  different* 
Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  after  hearing  half-a-dozen 
discordant  accounts  of  something  that  had 
happened  under  his  windows,  was  amused  at 
his  own  idea  of  writing  a  history  of  the  world. 
There  are,  indeed,  as  many  different  accounts 
of  things  as  there  are  persons  to  relate  them. 
We  have  a  score  of  contemporary  reporters 
of  the  death  of  Darnley,  but  the  collation  of 
their  reports  makes  the  mystery  of  it  blacker 
than  ever.  Who  wrote  the  "  Imitatio  '*  ? 
Was  it  Gerson,  or  Thomas  A'Kempis,  or  the 
Abbe  of  Verceil  ?  We  grope  for  answer  amid 
masses  of  statement  this  side  and  that,  and 
at  the  end  are  as  puzzled  as  ever. 

It  is  indeed  the  secret  history,  the  history 
behind  the  history,  for  which  the  inquirer 
after  reality  is  always  in  search.  When,  for 
instance,  we  read  our  Bible,  while  under 
unspeakable  obligation  for  what  is  there,  we 
find  an  interest  almost  as  deep  in  what  is  not 
there.     About  the  Old  Testament  we  recog- 


162  The  Eternal  Religion. 

nise,  with  Sir  William  Dawson,  that  "  we 
are  just  beginning  to  realise  that  the  fragments 
of  Hebrew  literature  contained  in  the  Old 
Testament  are  the  wrecks  of  a  vast  literature 
which  extended  over  the  Oriental  world  from  a 
remote  past."  If  only  we  knew  the  genesis 
of  Genesis  ;  the  earlier  documents,  the  subr 
structures  of  legend,  and  the  successive  pro- 
cesses out  of  which  arose  our  Pentateuch  ! 
The  critics  have  helped  us  enormously  here, 
but  the  results  are,  at  best,  a  guess.  Of  the 
New  Testament,  much  the  same  must  be  said. 
When  we  open  at  Matthew  how  we  long  to 
get  at  the  sub-Matthew  !  Ah  !  to  reach  that 
inner  circle  of  fact ;  to  see  the  growth  of  the 
story  ;  to  watch  the  process  by  which  the 
scattered  notes  of  events  and  discourses, 
the  tales  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth,  the 
prepossessions  and  mental  habitudes  of  wit- 
nesses all  finally  condensed  into  this  evangel 
as  we  now  have  it ! 

All  religions,  indeed,  have  a  secret  history. 
And  that  because  what  really  transpires  is 
beyond  accurate  expression  in  speech.  The 
transcendental  feeling  in  which  they  originate 
has  no  exact  correlative  in  language.  What 
was  the  Christianity  of  Christ  ?  What  was, 
we  mean,  the  precise  feeling  of  Jesus  in  con- 
tact with  God,  with  man  and  the  universe  ? 
That  is  the  whole  question,  and  we  can  only 
approximate  to  the  answer.     The  men  who 


Behind  the  History.  163 

came  into  contact  with  Him  realised  that  they 
were  in  the  presence  of  something  new  and 
incomparably  beautiful.  There  was  no  lan- 
guage ready  in  which  accurately  to  express 
their  feeHng.  The  best  they  could  do  was 
to  fall  back  upon  the  categories  which  Jewish 
thought  had  created.  And  so  they  used 
towards  Jesus  the  terms  in  which  Philo  and 
the  Alexandrian  school  had  clothed  their 
conception  of  the  Logos.  Let  us  never  forget 
that  the  language  of  the  Gospels,  while  a 
medium  through  which  we  have  come  to 
know  Christ,  is  a  medium  which  is  also  a 
barrier.  In  these  pages  we  are  on  the  outer 
edge  of  the  fact.  We  see  through  a  glass, 
darkly.  We  have  to  guess  at  the  historic 
reahty  behind. 

Assuredly  we  are  not  saved  by  knowing. 
The  gaps  in  our  Bible  knowledge  are  paralleled 
in  every  other  department.  It  might  seem, 
indeed,  as  if  Nature  were  in  a  good-humoured 
conspiracy  to  keep  us  in  ignorance  until  she 
chose  to  reveal  her  secrets.  Is  there  not  a 
suggestion  of  humour  in  allowing  generation 
after  generation  of  civiHsed  and  cultured 
men  to  believe  implicitly  that  our  world 
was  made  in  six  days  ?  All  the  time  the  actual 
record  was  there,  writ  in  rock  and  fossil  and 
alluvial  drift.  The  truth  was  open  for  all 
eyes  to  behold,  but  no  eye  saw  it.  When  a 
faint  ghmmer  of  it  began  to  show,  it  was  held 


164  The  Eternal  Religion. 

as  a  part  of  religion  to  close  one's  eyes.  A 
few  generations  hence  and  how  many  com- 
ceptions  we  now  regard  as  necessary  to  the 
spiritual  life  may  seem  to  our  descendants 
equally  unnecessary  and  grotesque  ! 

We  never  get  a  complete  history  of  one 
another.  "  Est-ce  qu'une  vie  de  femme  se 
raconteP^^  asks  Sainte  Beuve.  The  question 
applies  not  only  to  women.  How  should  we 
be  able  to  write  accurately  about  life  when  no 
scientist  can  tell  us  what  life  is  ?  No  man 
can  explain  his  own  consciousness.  Most  of 
us  have  little  desire  to  make  the  attempt. 
Talleyrand's  mot  that  language  is  for  the 
purpose  of  concealing  thought,  holds  a  certan 
amount  of  truth.  It  is  in  the  Hne  of  Kant's 
admission  that  "  openheartedness,  the  saying 
of  the  whole  truth  we  know  of,  is  not  to  be 
met  with  in  human  nature."  The  attempt 
to  do  so  has  actually  a  displeasing  effect. 
The  nearest  approach  to  it  is  probably  to 
be  found  in  Rousseau's  "  Confessions  "  ;  and 
who  that  has  read  him  has  not  felt  a  certain 
repugnance,  as  if  a  stranger  were  stripping 
himseK  naked  before  us  in  the  open  street  ? 
With  most  of  us  our  best  and  our  worst  is 
alike  concealed.  An  unfriendly  critic  declared 
of  Chateaubriand  that  "  within  Chateaubriand 
was  an  obscene  Chateaubriand."  There  has 
been  something  similar  in  a  good  many 
persons  of  repute.     But  a  true  record  of  our 


Behind  the  History.  165 

fellows,  while  reporting  these  black  spots, 
would  report  also  many  an  unsuspected  holy 
of  hoHes,  shrines  where  have  burned  the  flames 
of  passionate  devotion,  of  pure  ethereal  desire, 
in  hearts  we  have  thought  cold  and  hard. 
WiUiam  Watson's  judgment  on  Burns  is  one 
that  may  be  applied  over  a  wider  area  : 

Not  ours  to  gauge  the  more  or  less, 
The  will's  defect,  the  blood's  excess. 
The  earthly  humours  that  oppress 

The  radiant  mind. 
His  greatness,  not  his  littleness, 

Concerns  mankind. 

The  history  behind  the  history  ;  that,  we 
Bay,  is  the  ever-interesting  thing.  The  un- 
written outweighs  immeasurably  all  we  have 
in  print.  What  records  are  in  the  faces  we 
meet !  One  is  overwhelmed  with  the  tragic 
interest  of  those  lines  of  feature,  of  those 
volumes  contained  in  a  glance.  Do  we  get 
properly  behind  our  newspapers  of  a  morning  ? 
When  we  read  of  Port  Arthur  and  its  casualty 
list,  did  we  get  from  the  cold  print  to  the  actual 
history  ;  to  what  passed,  for  instance,  in  every 
bosom  of  those  nameless  thousands  of  the 
Japanese  army  who  swarmed  up  the  shell- 
swept  slopes  in  attack  after  attack,  and  whose 
bodies  afterwards  lay  stark  on  the  hillside — that 
fitory  unwritten  in  each  man  of  keenest, 
Agonised  consciousness   up   to  the  last  fatal 


166  The  Eternal  Religion. 

moment  ?  Will  all  that  we  wonder,  in  this 
or  any  other  world,  ever  emerge  into  speech  1 
Or  have  we  ever  tried  to  think  ourselves 
into  the  consciousness  of  the  animal  creation, 
of  those  dumb  millions  that  travel  with  us  in 
the  life- journey,  that  suffer  and  say  no 
word  ?  There  is  a  secret  history  beyond  even 
this.  Beneath  the  life  we  know,  of  man  and 
animal,  opens  a  mystery  of  existence  still 
more  inscrutable.  What  is  the  life  of  atoms, 
of  the  earth  itself  ?  Deep  beneath  our  planet's 
surface,  in  the  far  interior,  there  lie,  probably, 
great  open  spaces,  subterranean  lakes,  that 
have  been  there  from  the  beginning.  Can  we 
realise  that  solitude  ?  Some  geologists  give 
fifty  million  years  from  the  Laurentian  period 
to  the  Early  Pleistocene.  Imagine  the  move- 
ment of  the  hours,  the  centuries  that  made  that 
period,  in  these  vast,  dark,  silent  interiors  t 
And  yet  is  not  that  story,  each  moment  of 
it,  written  upon  some  world-consciousness  ? 
It  must  be,  for  matter  is  only  the  outer  side 
of  spirit,  and  there  can  be  no  existence  any- 
where which  has  not  its  spiritual  counterpart. 
And  here  come  we,  at  the  end,  to  the  root 
of  the  whole  matter.  The  unwritten,  the 
secret  history  is,  we  have  contended,  the 
deepest  and  most  important  of  histories.  And 
we  can  see  now  the  reason.  It  is  that  the 
whole  of  the  visible,  in  its  entire  manifestation, 
rests    upon    a    greater    invisible.     The    outer 


Behind  the  History.  167 

world  is  a  deposit  from  the  unseen.  Mind  is, 
we  perceive,  both  essentially  and  historically 
before  matter,  for  it  is  only  through  mind 
and  in  terms  of  mind  we  can  conceive  matter. 
Out  of  such  a  study  as  this  emerges  the  in- 
evitable truth  that  man  is  a  spiritual  being 
in  a  spiritual  universe.  This  truth,  the  end 
of  historical  inquiry,  is  the  beginning  of  religious 
experience.  The  abiding  realities,  the  per- 
manent forces,  are  "  the  things  unseen."  Our 
age  is  asking,  in  an  agony  of  doubt,  this 
question  : 

Can  a  finite  thing  created  in  the  bounds  of  time  and 

space. 
Can  it  live  and  grow  and  love  Thee,  catch  the  glory  of 

Thy  face, 
Fade  and  die,  be  gone  for  ever,  know  no  being,  have  no 

place  ? 

We  have  here  the  answer.  It  cannot  be,  for 
man's  being  in  its  essence  is  founded  on  the 
unseen  ;  and  while  "  the  things  that  are  seen 
are  temporal,  the  things  that  are  not  seen  are 
eternal." 


XIX. 

Of  spiritual   Loss. 

The  modem  habit  of  thinking  theology  in 
terms  of  physical  science  is  apt,  if  we  are  not 
careful,  to  lead  us,  in  some  directions  at  least, 
very  far  astray.  A  notable  instance  is  where 
we  begin  to  speculate  on  spiritual  power, 
as  though  it  were  on  the  same  plane  and 
subject  to  the  same  laws  as  the  power  which 
energises  in  the  natural  world.  About  this 
latter  force,  as  we  know,  physicists  argue 
on  the  supposition  that  it  is  a  constant  quantity ; 
that  its  amount  is  fixed  ;  that  while  you  may 
indefinitely  change  its  form,  you  cannot 
add  to  it  or  take  from  it.  It  is  very  easy 
for  the  sciectific  mind  to  reason  on  the  same 
lines  concerning  the  soul's  energies.  There 
is  so  much  that  is  analogous.  Here,  too, 
are  wonderful  transmutations.  Spiritual 
power,  as  far  as  we  can  trace  it,  seems  hidden 
away  in  all  kinds  of  elements  ;  its  apparent 
loss  is  constantly  a  mere  disappearance,  as  of 
heat  when  it  becomes  latent.  Does  not 
the   parallel,   then,  go  all  the  way  ?     When 

168 


Of  Spiritual  Loss.  169 

heights  are  reached  in  one  direction,  will  it 
not  be  at  the  expense  of  a  corresponding 
depression  elsewhere  ?  Is  not  a  supposed 
progress,  then,  simply  the  sway  backwards 
and  forwards  of  an  energy  whose  quantity 
is  always  really  the  same  ? 

Along  this  line,  we  say,  modern  thought  is 
apt  to  travel  easily.  But  it  is  a  false  line. 
For  the  laws  in  this  region  are  not  on  a  level 
with  those  of  physical  energy.  So  far  from 
being  a  fixed  quantity,  life  in  its  higher  and 
spiritual  manifestations  is  an  ever-growing 
quantity.  From  the  invisible  spheres  it  is 
flowing  in  upon  humanity  in  a  deepening 
stream,  augmenting  always  with  the  capacity 
to  receive  it.  The  supply  seems  limitless, 
as  seems  also  the  inner  development  which 
it  works  to  produce.  It  is  this  consideration 
which  upsets  completely  the  modern 
materialistic  determinism.  When  we  are  told 
that  character  is  fixed  by  the  shape  of  a  man's 
forehead,  that,  as  Schopenhauer  has  it,  "  the 
wicked  man  is  born  with  his  wickedness  as 
much  as  the  serpent  is  with  his  poison  fangs 
and  glands,  nor  can  the  former  change  his 
nature  a  whit  more  than  the  latter,"  we  see 
the  gaping  flaw  in  the  argument.  It  forgets 
the  progressive  force  that  is  shaping  humanity ; 
working  on  its  foreheads,  altering  its  physical 
conditions,  touching  to  new  issues  its  centres 
of  feeHng  and  thought. 

12 


170  The  Eternal  Religion. 

These  higher  manifestations,  which,  for 
want  of  a  better  term,  we  define  as  "  the 
spiritual  life,"  are  being  more  and  more 
recognised  as  humanity's  most  precious  asset, 
its  pearl  of  great  price.  To  lose  them,  or  to 
stop  their  free  development,  is,  by  the  best 
minds,  seen  to  be  a  loss  greater  infinitely 
than  the  failure  of  the  crops  or  the  breakdown 
of  the  national  credit.  To  the  degree  in 
which  a  country  is  backward  here  it  is  under 
a  disability  not  to  be  reckoned  in  figures. 
It  is  like  a  want  of  eyesight.  We  do  not 
stay  now  to  define  the  contents  of  the  spiritual 
consciousness.  St.  Paul  has  done  it  excel- 
lently for  us  in  his  description  of  the  "  fruits 
of  the  Spirit."  What  we  want  specially 
to  dwell  on  is  the  possibility  of  losing  it. 
That  the  loss,  in  more  or  less  degree,  is  quite 
possible  history  abundantly  shows.  What 
history,  however,  has  made  quite  as 
abundantly  manifest  is  the  curious  blunders 
men  have  made  in  guarding  against  the  loss. 

The  wider  our  observation,  the  more  careful 
shall  we  become  in  declaring  what  is  actually 
a  spiritual  loss.  So  often  do  we  mistake 
the  apparent  for  the  real,  so  often  do  we 
find  that  what  needed  to  be  corrected  was, 
not  the  thing  outside  us  so  much  as  our 
own  standard  of  judgment.  What  we  imagine 
has  gone  has  simply  become  latent.  There 
are  instances,   of  course,   where  much  more 


Or  Spiritual  Loss.  171 

than  tlmt  has  to  be  said.  When  Louis  XIV., 
by  the  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes, 
drove  out  the  Huguenots,  it  is  impossible 
not  to  see  the  enormous  impoverishment 
that  was  occasioned  in  the  highest  Hfe  of 
France.  She  lost  then  her  Puritans  and 
Nonconformists,  and  her  spiritual  life  has 
never  recovered  the  blow.  What  a  strange 
confession  that  is  of  Renan,  which  he  seems 
to  regard,  indeed,  as  a  commendation  of  the 
modern  French  mind  !  "  The  French  mind 
is  altogether  in  the  most  perfect  harmony 
with  the  proportions  of  our  planet ;  it  has 
estimated  the  dimensions  at  a  glance,  and 
does  not  go  beyond  them."  This  planetary 
provincialism  does  not  seem,  however,  to  have 
produced  the  highest  results,  if  we  may 
credit  the  description  by  a  French  writer  of 
to-day  of  the  inner  condition  of  his  country  : 
''  More  than  a  hundred  years  after  the  great 
Revolution  ;  after  thirty  years  of  a  republic, 
by  turns  Conservative,  Opportunist,  Radical 
and  Socialist,  we  find  ourselves  wallowing 
in  the  mud  of  our  industrialism,  our  pauperism, 
our  revolts,  our  wars  ;  with  prostitution  and 
alcoholism  for  our  joys,  the  Press  and  politics 
for  our  activities,  with  money  and  appearance 
for  ideal." 

Who  also  can  fail  to  discern,  amid  much 
progress  in  other  directions,  a  lack  of  the 
highest  hfe  in  our  own  land  in  that  eighteenth- 


172  The  Eternal  Religion. 

century  society  of  which  Hume  and  his  school 
were  the  accepted  prophets  !  What  a  level 
of  thinking  and  of  being  which  permitted 
the  following,  quoted  with  approbation  by 
Adam  Smith  from  Hume,  as  the  proper 
attitude  towards  religion  !  "  And  in  the  end 
the  civil  magistrate  will  find  that  he  has 
dearly  paid  for  his  intended  frugality  in 
saving  a  fixed  estabhshment  for  the  priests  ; 
and  that  in  reality  the  most  decent  and 
advantageous  composition  which  he  can  make 
with  the  spiritual  guides  is  to  bribe  their 
indolence  by  assigning  fixed  salaries  to  their 
profession,  and  rendering  it  superfluous  for 
them  to  be  further  active  than  merely  to 
prevent  their  flock  from  straying  in  quest 
of  new  pastors."  In  other  words,  one  must 
establish  religion  as  the  best  way  of  restricting 
its  activities !  This  idea,  astonishing  as  it 
may  seem  to  most  of  us,  has  nevertheless  been 
at  the  back  of  the  mind  of  a  good  many  of  our 
legislators.  It  found  expression  in  the  remark 
of  that  good  establishmentarian  and  pillar  of 
the  Church,  Lord  Melbourne.  "If,"  said  he, 
"  we  are  to  have  a  religion,  let  us  have  one 
that  is  cool  and  indifferent ;  and  such  a  one 
as^we  have  got."  It  is  to  be  hoped  the  world 
is  at  last  arriving  at  a  different  conception  from 
this  of  man's  relation  to  the  spiritual  powers. 

And  yet  amongst  those  who  have  had  the 
profoundest  sense  of  religion  and  the  keenest 


Of  Spiritual  Loss.  173 

desire  to  conserve  its  interests,  we  discern  a 
blindness  not  less  fatuous.  When  we  review 
the  various  precautions  against  spiritual  loss, 
we  remember  Voltaire's  mot  about  the  doctors 
and  bodily  health.  *'  They  put  drugs  of  which 
they  know  Httle  into  a  body  of  which  they 
know  nothing."  For  centuries  the  belief 
prevailed  throughout  Christendom  that  the 
only  way  of  saving  men's  souls  was  to  secure 
an  absolute  uniformity  of  theological  opinion. 
Augustine,  founding  himself  on  the  text, 
"  Compel  them  to  come  in,"  taught  this  fatal 
doctrine  to  the  imperial  Government — a 
doctrine  which  was  afterwards  to  deluge  the 
world  with  blood.  We  are  apt  to  think  of 
Philip  II. — the  man  under  whose  auspices 
Alva  wrought  his  butcheries  in  the  Netherlands, 
who  sent  the  Armada  against  England,  and 
who  worked  the  Inquisition  with  such  terrific 
energy  amongst  his  own  Spaniards — as  a 
monster  of  cruelty.  In  reality,  he  was  a  man 
naturally  of  mild  disposition  and  of  strong 
affections.  In  his  later  years  especially  he 
was  revered  by  the  people  as  a  saint.  His 
slaughters  and  persecutions  were  wrought 
under  the  profound  conviction  that  he,  their 
crowned  monarch,  was  responsible  for  the 
souls  of  his  people  ;  that  only  by  the  victory 
of  the  Catholic  faith,  of  which  he  was  in 
his  realm  the  appointed  custodian,  could  the 
Kingdom  of  God  come  amongst  them. 


174  The  Eternal  Religion. 

We  have  made  some  advances  since  Philip's 
day,  yet  in  many  quarters  we  have  ideas 
almost  as  erroneous  on  the  causes  of  spiritual 
loss.  Ignorance  is  still  fostered  as  a  safeguard 
of  piety.  A  minister  once  expressed  to  the 
present  writer  his  thankfulness  that  he  had 
not  learned  German.  German  literature  he 
considered  was  so  unsettHng.  There  are  to-day 
reputable  preachers  who  taboo  the  critical 
investigation  of  the  Scriptures  as  a  kind  of 
infidelity. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  certain  religious  exalta- 
tion to  which  study  of  any  kind  which  does 
not  directly  feed  emotion  is  regarded  as 
hindering  the  spiritual  life.  And  assuredly  it 
does  hinder  feeling,  but  the  mistake  here  is  to 
regard  feeling  as  the  whole  of  Hfe.  When 
Ignatius  Loyala,  turned  from  warrior  into 
saint,  began  to  learn  Latin,  he  found  it  a 
miserable  substitute  for  his  earlier  raptures. 
But  he  had  the  good  sense  to  persevere,  it 
being  granted  him  to  see,  as  some  of  our  zealots 
have  failed  to  see,  that  zeal  without  knowledge 
can  offer  at  best  only  a  lame  and  limping 
service.  Is  not  this,  indeed,  one  of  the 
damning  heresies,  though  no  council  has 
denounced  it,  the  idea  of  exalting  feeling, 
the  rapture  of  devotion,  as  the  supreme  test 
of  the  spiritual  life  ?  It  is  often  when  feeling 
is  crushed  and  broken,  when  the  whole  realm 
of  sensation  is  in  revolt,  that  a  man's  soul 


Of  Spiritual  Loss.  175 

is  at  its  highest  point.  When  Jesus  stood  in 
Gethsemane,  when  He  trod  the  road  up  to 
Calvary,  His  mental  state  was  the  reverse 
of  rapture,  but  it  was  there  He  was  conquering 
for  HimseK  and  the  world.  Men  do  their 
grandest  things  often  when  the  heart  within 
them  feels  like  a  stone.  The  heroic  Males- 
herbes,  safely  away  from  the  Revolution  at 
Lausanne,  hears  that  Louis  XVI.,  his  master, 
is  a  captive  and  in  danger.  He  has  his  horses 
put  to.  "  What  are  you  doing  ?  "  ask  his 
friends.  "  Je  'pars  pour  Par  is. ^^  He  was 
going  himself  to  his  doom  and  knew  it.  It 
was  midnight  in  his  soul  as  he  went,  but  the 
man  was  never  higher,  or  nearer  heaven. 

It  is  time  we  understood  more  clearly 
what  really  constitutes  spiritual  gain  and 
loss.  The  safeguards  devised  by  monarchs 
and  ecclesiastics  for  the  spiritual  kingdom 
are  on  a  par  with  the  Protectionist  proposals 
for  the  benefit  of  commerce.  Practitioners 
of  this  order  in  both  departments  do  not 
perceive  that  the  only  healthy  condition 
here  is  one  of  absolute  freedom.  Anything 
that  hinders  the  freest  circulation  of  the 
spiritual  forces  is  a  loss.  The  pursuit  of 
research,  the  clash  of  opinion,  where  full  liberty 
is,  can  only  end  in  spiritual  furtherance,  for  the 
laws  of  the  human  mind,  where  they  are  free  to 
act,  tend  inevitably  towards  the  truth.  To 
underprop  religion  by  the  old  artificial  methods 


176  The  Eternal  Religion. 

is  like  underpropping  the  planet.  The  spiritual 
kingdom,  like  the  planet,  requires  no  under- 
propping, because  it,  too,  is  sustained  by  forces 
that  are  invisible. 

There  is  a  personal  aspect  to  this  theme 
which  in  itself  might  well  have  occupied  us 
entirely.  Nothing  in  the  whole  range  of  a 
man's  possessions  is  so  well  worth  safeguarding 
as  his  spiritual  estate.  And  he  is  himself 
a  fair  judge  of  how  matters  are  going  there. 
As  we  advance  from  youth  to  age  a  great 
many  things  change  in  us.  There  may  be 
decay  of  bodily  strength  and  of  some  forms  of 
mental  faculty.  But  it  is  a  glorious  fact  that 
in  all  that  makes  the  soul  of  a  man  the  move- 
ment may  be  one  always  of  less  to  more. 
If  there  is  in  us  a  perceptible  lessening  of  the 
sense  of  justice,  of  the  passion  for  purity, 
of  human  sympathy,  of  sensitiveness  to  the 
spiritual  world  and  all  of  beauty  and  promise 
that  it  holds,  the  fault  is  not  with  the  years 
but  with  ourselves.  After  all,  the  one  great 
touchstone  of  spiritual  loss  or  gain,  as  the 
apostle  has  told  us  in  immortal  words,  is  love. 

The  night  has  a  thousand  eyes 

And  the  day  but  one  ; 
But  the  light  of  a  whole  world  (-ies 

With  the  setting  sun. 
The  mind  has  a  thousand  eyes 

And  the  heart  but  one  ; 
But  the  light  of  a  who.e  life  dies 

When  love  is  done. 


XX. 

Converts. 

An  abiding  question  for  all  the  Churches 
is  the  question  of  converts.  It  is  one  which 
requires  from  them  not  only  their  best  doing 
but  their  best  thinking.  And  yet  there  is 
no  topic  so  persistently  shirked ;  or  where, 
when  attention  is  given  to  it,  the  ideas  are  so 
shallow  and  so  inadequate.  There  are  shoals 
of  ecclesiastics  amongst  whom  the  matter 
is  hardly  even  considered.  With  them  the 
word  "  conversion "  has  dropped  out.  And 
yet  this  one  thing  is,  in  Luther's  words,  "  the 
article  of  a  standing  or  falling  Church." 
Modern  Christianity  will  have  to  get  to  the 
bottom  of  the  business  or  perish  from  the 
earth.  As  a  religion  it  is,  as  never  before,  on 
its  defence,  and  its  only  successful  defence 
will  be  in  attack.  The  time  has  come  for  a 
complete  revision  on  this  subject,  both  of  ideas 
and  of  methods.  It  will  be  when  we  come 
back  to  the  conception  of  the  Gospel  as,  not  so 
much  a  theology  as  a  dynamic,  a  motive 
power  for  the  changing  and  uplifting  of  men, 

177 


178  The  Eternal  Religion. 

that  the  Church  will  get  off  the  down-grade 
on  which  it  is  so  swiftly  gliding  and  take  its 
place  once  more  at  the  head  of  the  human 
movement. 

What  are  the  facts  of  the  present  situation  ? 
The  most  salient  of  them  is  that  the  working 
class,  from  whom  almost  exclusively  the  first 
Christian  converts  were  drawn,  is  to-day  the 
class  at  the  farthest  remove  from  the  Church. 
We  have  here,  we  say,  an  exact  reversal  of 
the  primitive  state.  In  that  first  age  it  was 
the  rich,  the  titled,  the  important  people  who 
stood  aloof  from  Christianity,  and  the  common 
people  who  received  it  gladly.  To-day, 
throughout  Protestantism — in  Germany,  in 
England,  in  America — organised  Christianity 
is  maintained  by  the  capitalist  classes,  while 
the  proletariat  keeps  outside.  So  extra- 
ordinary a  swing  round  surely  demands 
attention.  As  a  fact  in  sociology  it  offers 
a  challenge  to  inquiry  ;  as  a  feature  in  modern 
religion  it  stands  as  a  matter  of  life  and  death. 
There  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  facts.  In  Germany, 
according  to  Dr.  Stocker,  "  Protestantism  is 
sick,  sick  unto  death.  The  working  men 
of  the  towns,  belonging,  as  they  often  do,  to 
the  Social  Democratic  party,  are  everywhere 
hostile."  In  the  United  States,  during  a 
recent  investigation,  pastor  after  pastor  of 
the  town  churches  testified  that  they  had 
not  a  single  working  man  on  their  roll.     What 


Converts.  179 


the  condition  is  in  our  own  land  the  researches 
of  Mr.  Charles  Booth  and  the  recent  Church 
censuses  have  sufficiently  revealed.  Here, 
surely,  is  a  state  of  things  that  requires  some 
looking  into. 

What  theory  and  practice  has  the  Church 
to-day  concerning  converts  ?  Conversion  is  a 
business  the  world  has  been  about  for  a  good 
many  years  now,  and  with  a  remarkable 
variety  of  method.  It  is  reported  of  Xavier, 
that  on  one  of  his  missionary  expeditions,  on 
passing  some  islands  where  he  was  unable 
to  land,  he  waved  in  their  direction  a  brush 
dipped  in  holy  water,  making  over  them  the 
sign  of  the  cross,  and  on  the  strength  of  this 
procedure  claimed  the  inhabitants  for  the 
Catholic  Church.  Charlemagne  took  more 
trouble  with  the  Saxons,  but  his  methods  also 
were  summary.  After  defeating  one  of  their 
armies,  he  offered  his  prisoners  one  of  two 
alternatives,  either  to  be  baptized  in  the 
neighbouring  river,  or  to  have  their  throats 
cut.  They  became  converts  at  once.  Queen 
Mary  would  seem  to  have  had  a  view  not 
remote  from  that  of  the  Frankish  conqueror 
when  she  burnt  heretics,  declaring,  as  is 
recorded  of  her,  that  "  she  could  not  be  wrong 
in  this,  as  God  would  otherwise  do  it  in  hell." 

We  do  not  in  our  time  propose  these  ways 
of  solving  the  religious  problem.  But  they 
were  at  least  vigorous,  and  the  question  arises 


180  The  Eternal  Religion. 

whether  our  lack  of  initiative  is  not,  in  its  way, 
as  far  from  a  proper  handling  of  the  matter  as 
was  their  crudeness  ?  If  our  idea  is  not  that 
of  Charlemagne,  what  is  it  ?  Protestantism, 
in  so  far  as  it  possesses  a  theory,  has  dealt 
hitherto  with  conversion  as  an  exclusively 
personal  question.  It  holds,  or  professes  to, 
that  a  man  can  be  vitally  changed  ;  made, 
in  New  Testament  language,  "  a  new  creature,'* 
by  the  operation  in  him  of  a  gracious  Divine 
power.  And  that  in  itself  surely  is  a  great 
Gospel  to  proclaim.  There  are  innumerable 
witnesses  to  such  happenings.  Ever3rthing, 
indeed,  in  cosmic  analogy  would  lead  us  to 
affirm  such  a  possibiUty.  If  man,  in  other 
spheres,  can  multiply  his  power  a  hundredfold 
by  alliance  with  outside  energies  ;  can  call  in 
steam,  electricity,  a  thousand  things  as 
magnifiers  and  intensifiers  of  his  personality, 
why  should  not  the  same  hold  in  the  sphere 
of  the  spiritual  ?  Why  should  there  not  lie 
here  external  aids  waiting  for  him  to  appro- 
priate ?  And  when  primitive  Christianity 
speaks  of  this  aid  as  a  personal  one,  modern 
psychology  can  have  nothing  against  it. 
If  in  so  humble  a  region  as  hypnotism  we 
see  one  will  passing  into  and  executing 
itself  in  another  personality,  why  hesitate 
to  accept,  in  the  highest  realm,  the  doctrine 
of  the  "  possession "  of  us  by  a  Divine 
personahty  ? 


Converts.  181 


So  far  good.  But  the  mischief  with  modern 
Protestantism  is  that  in  its  reading,  alike 
of  the  New  Testament  and  of  the  facts  of 
human  life,  it  has  only  gone  half-way.  It  has 
taken  the  doctrine,  while  overlooking  the 
setting,  the  environment  of  the  doctrine. 
But,  as  related  to  converts,  the  one  is  as 
important  as  the  other.  And  the  neglect 
of  it  is  the  cause  of  all  the  present  decadence. 
The  thing  forgotten,  and  now  at  all  costs  to  be 
recovered,  is  the  fact  that  primitive  Christianity 
had  a  social  as  well  as  an  individual  programme. 
Its  appeal  to  men  was  not  only  in  relation 
to  something  invisible  in  the  heavens,  but  to 
something  visible  here  before  them  on  the 
earth.  And  the  something  it  offered  was 
felt  by  these  poor  disinherited  ones  as  a 
good  something.  It  was  a  social  organisation 
whose  watchwords  were  the  very  ones  that 
thrilled  Europe  a  century  ago  :  "  Liberty, 
Equality,  Fraternity."  The  Grospel's  offer 
was  not  only  a  secret  and  mystical  rapture 
of  the  soul,  but  a  fellowship  of  unequalled 
charm  and  sweetness.  No  wonder  the  poor 
flocked  in  at  these  doors  !  The  slave,  treated 
outside  as  dross,  felt  himself  here  a  man. 
Surrounded,  frowned  upon  in  the  world  by 
huge,  pitiless  tyrannies,  in  the  Christian 
brotherhood  he  found  a  sacred  democracy 
where  everything  good  was  freely  shared. 
He  had  come  into  his  kingdom. 


182  The  Eternal  Religion. 

It  is  really  amazing  that  our  modern 
ecclesiastic  can  fail  so  utterly  to  grasp  this 
side  of  his  problem.  He  sees  the  masses  of 
the  people  outside  his  system,  and  asks  in 
piteous  bewilderment  for  the  reason.  Is, 
then,  Christianity  a  failure  ;  or  is  it  that  our 
generation  has  a  double  dose  of  original  sin  ? 
It  is  neither,  my  good  friend,  but  simply  that 
you  and  those  with  you  have  not  yet  been  able 
to  recognise  the  most  obvious  facts  of  the 
situation.  What,  in  heaven's  name,  do  you 
propose  to  convert  these  people  to  ?  Is  it  to 
modern  AngHcanism  ?  That  institution  has 
undoubtedly  some  Christian  doctrine  inside  it. 
But  what  is  its  environment  ?  What  social 
instincts  of  the  working  man  does  its  system 
appeal  to  ?  Its  rehgious  services  are  con- 
ducted by  a  white-robed  gentleman,  who 
reads  or  intones  a  ritual  which  might  as  well 
be  addressed  to  the  moon  as  to  our  artisan. 
This  goes  on  in  a  cold  building,  whose  occupants 
are  well-dressed  persons  who  would  be  insulted 
if  he  sat  by  their  side.  Genial  atmosphere 
this  for  the  expansion  of  his  social  instincts  ! 
When,  in  addition,  our  proletaire  learns  that 
the  institution  which,  as  a  convert,  he  is  here 
invited  to  join  is  the  trenched  and  moated 
citadel  of  the  aristocratic,  feudal  principle  ; 
that  in  its  government  the  people  have  no 
voice  ;  that  its  interests  are,  above  all  things, 
the  interests  of  property,  of  class  distinction, 


Converts.  183 


of  social  exclusiveness,  of  all,  in  short,  that 
militates  most  fiercely  against  his  individual 
and  class  aspiration,  can  we  be  serious  in 
proposing  that  he  embrace  it  ?  His  con- 
version to  all  this  would  indeed  be  the  most 
astounding  of  miracles.  But  do  not,  in  the 
name  of  common-sense,  let  us  speak  of  this 
attitude  of  his  as  a  rejection  of  Christianity. 
It  is  a  rejection  of  feudalism  and  of  the  cold 
shoulder. 

Shall  we  never  learn  our  lesson  ?  Chris- 
tianity is  first  and  foremost  a  democracy,  and 
it  can  succeed  upon  no  other  terms.  The 
Kingdom  of  God  it  proclaims  is  none  other  than 
freedom  inner  and  outer  ;  the  participation 
of  the  best  by  all ;  the  brotherhood  of  men, 
where  each  serves  the  other  ;  a  family  where 
all  are  one  in  Christ  their  Brother  and  God 
their  Father.  That  Church  is  a  mockery 
of  the  Gospel  which  invites  men  to  anything 
other  or  less  than  this.  If  evidence  were 
needed  of  the  truth  of  all  this,  it  is  found, 
surely,  in  the  fact  that  precisely  to  the  extent 
in  which  Christian  communities,  of  whatever 
name,  are  awaking  to  these  ideas,  to  that 
degree  are  they  breaking  down  the  barriers 
between  themselves  and  the  people.  Where 
religious  services  partake  of  the  democratic 
note ;  where  the  entrance  is  free  and  the 
welcome  hearty ;  where  song,  prayer  and 
speech    are   the   voice   of    the   brotherhood ; 


184  The  Eternal  Religion. 

where  the  institutions  springing  from  the 
central  force  are  all  manifestations  of 
the  same  spirit,  there  the  ancient,  eternal 
Gospel  asserts  at  once  its  power  and  renews 
its  immortal  youth. 

There  is  another  aspect  of  this  subject 
worth  far  more  attention  than  we  shall  here 
give  to  it.  It  is  that  of  what  the  convert, 
when  he  is  found,  brings  with  him.  This  is 
one  of  the  little  noted,  but  really  most  signifi- 
cant features  in  the  history  of  rehgion.  We 
are  not  yet  at  the  bottom  of  all  it  means. 
The  point  is  that  whenever  the  Church, 
in  the  great  springtimes  of  its  activity,  has 
admitted  the  inflowing  hosts  from  outside, 
the  result  has  been,  not  simply  a  change 
wrought  in  them,  but  a  change  also  wrought 
in  itself.  The  convert  is  always  a  giver  as  well 
as  a  receiver.  Each  contributes  something 
of  his  own  to  historic  Christianity.  The 
conversion  of  the  Latin  races  brought  into 
the  Church  the  rigid  discipUne  of  Catholicism  ; 
the  entrance  of  the  Greek  peoples  gave  her 
the  creeds  and  a  dogmatic  theology.  It  was 
the  stern,  cruel  temper  of  the  North  African 
peoples  that  produced  in  a  TertulHan  and  an 
Augustine  that  dark,  fearsome  aspect  with 
which  for  centuries  they  clouded  the  Christian 
eschatology.  With  the  new  races  that  are 
yet  to  come  in  the  same  law  will  hold.  A 
converted   India   and   China   will   mean   new 


Converts.  186 


conceptions  of  the  Gosp^d.  What  they  will 
bring  will  be  only  less  in  importance  to  what 
they  take.  Have  we  ev;>r  tried  to  estimate 
what  it  meant  for  our  religious  thought  when 
Paul,  with  his  previous  rabbinical  training, 
with  his  notions  of  sacrifice  and  other  vital 
topics,  became  a  Christian  convert :  of  the 
dijfference  to  our  whole  conception  of  Christ's 
death,  for  instance,  had  this  particular  Jew 
never  been  baptized  ?  And  there  may  yet 
arise  in  China  or  India  men  who,  at  least 
to  their  own  countrymen,  will  prove  as  original 
and  as  influential  exponents  of  Christ  as  he  of 
Tarsus  has  been  to  us. 

In  sum.  The  question  of  converts  is  the 
topic  for  to-day.  It  is  time  we  gave  Chris- 
tianity its  chance.  At  present  half  its  force 
is  locked  up.  There  are  two  oars  in  the 
boat  and  we  are  only  using  one.  The  result 
is  the  boat  goes  round  and  round  instead  of 
moving  on.  When  we  have  got  the  whole 
programme  ;  when  the  peoples  hear  the  voice 
and  see  the  institutions  of  the  Democratic 
Gospel,  they  will  rally  to  it.  It  is,  they  will 
recognise,  the  supreme  good  for  which  they 
and  their  fathers,  through  all  the  weary  ages, 
have  ceaselessly  yearned. 


13 


XXI. 
Necessity. 

Every  religion  has  had  its  doctrine  of  necessity. 
The  final  one  will  assuredly  also  contain  it. 
The  word  itself,  whichever  way  we  take  it,  is 
assuredly  one  of  the  grimmest  in  the  language. 
We  use  it  in  two  widely  different  senses,  but 
in  each  of  them  it  looms  over  human  life  like 
a  thundercloud.  It  represents  for  one  thing 
that  stern  metaphysical  doctrine  which  denies 
freewill  to  man,  regarding  his  life  and  action 
as  the  inevitable  result  of  preordained  causes. 
Science  has  translated  this  metaphysic  into 
biology,  and  taught  a  predestination  which 
announces  itself  in  the  shape  of  a  nose,  in  a 
chin's  weakness  or  strength,  in  the  quantity 
and  quality  of  the  brain's  grey  matter.  "  As 
you  are  made,"  it  says,  "  so  you  will  act." 
The  peculiarity  of  the  position  here  is  that 
the  argument  which  may  convince  the  intellect 
convinces  never  the  conscience.  Against  all 
evidence  our  moral  sense  declares  us  free. 
We  are  here,  indeed,  fixed  in  one  of  those 
antinomies  with  which  Hfe  is  full.     The  con- 

186 


Necessity.  187 


tradiction  of  necessity  and  free  will  is  only- 
one  of  many.  The  mathematician  offers  us 
calculations  in  which  we  can  discern  no  flaw, 
but  which  lead  to  exactly  opposite  results. 
What  they  really  prove  is  that  our  mind,  under 
its  present  Hmitations,  is  trustworthy  only  up 
to  a  certain  point.  There  are  savages  who 
can  count  up  to  ten  and  get  no  farther.  Our 
reason  is  a  calculator  up  to  a  point  which  is 
equally  Hmited. 

The  world's  best  minds  have  broken  them- 
selves on  these  problems,  and  there  is  no 
better  exercise  in  dialectic  than  to  study 
their  efforts  at  a  solution.  The  boundaries 
of  human  thinking  in  this  direction  were 
reached  pretty  early.  The  doctrine  of  Hera- 
chtus  that  fate  or  destiny  was  "  the  general 
reason  that  runs  through  the  whole  nature 
of  the  universe  "  ;  of  Chrysippus  that  it  was 
'*  a  spiritual  power  that  disposed  the  world 
in  order  "  ;  of  Plato  that  it  was  "  the  eternal 
reason  or  law  of  nature,"  represent  a  view  of 
things  which  we  have  scarcely  improved 
upon.  Their  handling,  too,  of  the  mystery  of 
evil  as  related  to  necessity  is  marvellously 
interesting.  How  ingeniously  does  Plato  work 
out  his  idea  that  the  Creator,  having  to  mix 
together  necessity  and  thought,  made  the 
universe  as  like  to  HimseK  as  He  could  ;  and 
how  subtle  is  Aristotle's  argument  that  the 
universe  consisting  of  matter  and  form,  the 


188  The  Eternal  Eeligion. 

Divine  perfection  is  found  in  the  form,  while 
all  imperfections  derive  from  the  matter ! 
No  thinkers  in  these  realms  can  afford  to 
overlook  Leibnitz's  Theodicee,  in  which  he 
derives  evil  from  the  necessary  relations  of 
finite  and  infinite,  and  argues  that  God  is 
the  author  not  of  moral  evil,  but  of  the 
possibility  of  it,  since  whoever  commits  a  trust 
to  others  opens  this  possibility.  He  is  the 
cause  of  the  existence  of  character,  not  the 
cause  of  what  the  character  shall  be.  The 
problem  which  is  here  solved  is  how  to  promote 
the  free  conditions  of  character,  with  the  best 
security  for  its  tendency  upwards. 

But  it  is  not  after  all  with  necessity,  as 
thus  understood,  that  we  wish  here  mainly 
to  concern  ourselves.  It  is,  we  suppose,  only 
the  few  to  whom  this  aspect  of  the  matter  is  in 
any  sense  a  trouble.  There  is  another  side 
of  it,  however,  which  grips  every  son  of  Adam. 
Millions  who  never  gave  to  necessity  a  thought 
as  a  speculation  know  and  obey  it  every  hour 
of  the  day  as  a  compeller.  And  in  this  aspect 
we  say  it  is  among  the  grimmest  of  presences. 
At  the  end  of  a  holiday,  for  instance,  when 
the  period  of  "go  as  you  please  "  is  over, 
and  there  looms  in  front  that  region  of  "  must," 
of  inevitable  performance,  of  stern  restriction, 
of  that  *' necessity,"  in  short,  which  for  a  brief 
time  we  had  escaped,  how  unlovely,  how 
desperately  forbidding,  does  it  all  appear  ! 


Necessity.  189 

It  is  worth  while,  for  our  comfort  and 
heartening,  to  look  into  this  matter  a  little. 
It  may  be,  ere  we  have  done,  we  may  form  a 
judgment  less  harsh  of  our  necessity,  if  we 
have  not  fallen  in  love  with  it  altogether. 
For  when  all  is  said,  this  grim  attendant  of 
ours  is  not  an  enemy,  but  a  friend,  one  of  our 
best.  To  the  race  as  a  whole,  and  to  ourselves 
as  individuals,  it  has  been  what  the  driving 
power  is  to  a  train.  That  fiery  furnace  heat, 
that  fierce  blast  of  the  urgent  steam,  are  things 
not  to  be  trifled  with,  terrible  to  encounter  on 
their  wrong  side,  but  there  were  no  progress 
without  them.  When  we  speak  of  the  gifts 
with  which  humanity  has  been  dowered,  the 
grace  by  which  it  has  lived  and  thriven, 
we  must  put  necessity  high  in  the  roll.  For 
it  is  at  once  a  gift  and  a  grace.  When  we 
reckon  up  our  capabilities  we  must  always 
add  this  "  needs  must "  to  the  sum  of  them. 
We  only  know  our  full  self  when  yoked  thus 
to  the  inevitable.  We  are  on  this  planet  to 
have  the  best  got  out  of  us,  and  here  are 
the  pick  and  shovel  that  dig  it  up.  For  it  is 
the  "  must "  that  not  simply  orders  but  accom- 
plishes. The  amateur  Alpine  climber  (we  speak 
here  from  experience)  reaches  a  spot  which 
seems  an  absolute  impasse.  But  necessity 
compels  him  across  the  impossible,  and  he  does 
it  quite  easily.  The  journalist  writes  against 
time,  and  the  pressure  itself  does  the  work. 


190  The  Eternal  Religion. 

And  it  is  not  simply  that,  under  this  com- 
pelling force,  we  reach  our  limit.     It  is  this 
same    compulsion    that    perpetually    enlarges 
us,    pushing  our  boundary-line    ever   further 
on.     In  our  extremity  we  fall  back  on  our 
reserves,   to  discover  with  astonishment  the 
hitherto    unknown   riches    in    that    territory. 
Our  normal,  at  such  moments,  becomes  raised 
to  an  n'*  power.      The  papers  contained  the 
other  day  the  story  of  a  paralytic  who  was 
cured  by  an  alarm  of  fire  in  the  house.     The 
shock  and  sudden  exertion  broke  open  some 
hidden  reservoir   that  reinforced   the  failing 
nerve    centres.     Man,    indeed,    is    never    so 
worthy  of  study  as  in  times  of  sudden  ex- 
tremity.    It  is  then  that  he  rises  above  or 
falls   beneath   himself.     There   is,    of   course, 
this  latter  possibility.     A  great  pressure  may 
demoralise  as  well  as  strengthen.     Burke,  in 
one  of  his  speeches,  argues  that  times  of  great 
mortality    are    times    of    special    wickedness. 
"  It  was  BO,"  he  says,  *'  in  the  great  plague 
of  Athens.     It  was  so  in  the  plague  of  London. 
It  appears  in  soldiers,  sailors,  &c.     Whoever 
would  contrive  to  render  the  life  of  man  much 
shorter  than  it  is  would,  I  am  satisfied,  find 
the  surest  recipe  for  increasing  the  wickedness 
of  our  nature."     This  reminds  us  of  Kenan's 
argument  that  if   the  world  were  convinced 
of  a  speedy  end  of  things  it  would  give  itself 
up  to  general  debauchery. 


Necessity.  191 


We  have  grave  doubts  on  the  point,  Burke 
and  Renan  notwithstanding.  What  we  are 
discussing  here,  however,  is  not  so  much 
the  effect  of  the  sudden  pressures,  which  vary 
with  the  whole  extent  of  the  previously  acquired 
character,  as  the  action  of  the  steadier  and 
more  permanent  ones.  It  is  here  we  see,  in 
sun-bright  clearness,  the  redemptive  and 
uplifting  power  of  our  necessity.  Every 
historian,  every  sociologist,  is  agreed  that  the 
nation  with  the  hardest  struggle  is  the  nation 
with  the  best  asset  and  the  surest  future. 
Nature  flings  here  her  contradictions  broad- 
cast. She  shows  us  how  the  peoples  most 
continually  in  danger  are  really  the  safest, 
and  how  the  protected  peoples,  assured  by 
their  situation  against  the  foreign  foe,  and 
by  cHmate  and  fertility  against  the  struggle 
for  life,  are  on  the  road  to  decay  and  extinction. 
It  is  along  this  road  of  hardship  and  dire 
extremity,  in  terror  of  famine,  of  nakedness, 
of  tempest,  of  wild  beast,  that  our  prehistoric 
ancestor  fought  his  way  upward.  His 
difficulty  was  the  creator  of  his  faculty.  Out 
of  this  external  besetment  he  won  his  power. 
And  to-day  it  is  the  nations  that  are  most 
exposed,  that  are  faced  with  the  sternest 
problems,  that  hold  the  future's  greatest 
promise.  Were  England  to  be  rid  of  her 
competitors  to-morrow,  the  deliverance  would 
be  a  loss  not  reckonable  in  millions. 


192  The  Eternal  Religion. 

But  there  is  a  deeper  note  yet  to  be  struck. 
The  education  of  necessity  carries  more,  much 
more,  than  is  contained  in  the  physical  battle 
for  life.  The  significant  thing  about  man  is 
that  the  animal  struggle  is,  in  all  its  character- 
istics, reduplicated  in  a  higher  sphere.  Man's 
necessity  is  a  graded  one.  The  soul  has  its 
"  must  "  as  well  as  the  body.  And  it  is  in 
contemplating  this  side  of  human  life  that, 
perhaps  more  than  anywhere  else,  we  obtain 
assurance  of  the  sure  foundations  and  the 
everlasting  continuance  of  religion.  It  is 
not  in  churches  or  Bibles  that  we  find  the 
final  guarantee.  That  lies  in  the  inherent 
structure  of  the  soul.  And  the  "  must " 
here  is,  that  a  Divineness,  a  Holiness  outside 
ourselves  should  ally  itself  with  us  and  give 
a  meaning  to  life.  Precisely  as  his  nakedness 
and  physical  destitution  have  been  the  con- 
ditions of  man's  external  progress,  bo  with 
his  inner  life.  The  true  beginning  of  the 
soul's  prosperity  is  the  sense  of  its  helplessness 
as  of  itself.  Romanes,  who  had  trodden 
every  inch  of  this  road,  speaks  our  experience 
as  well  as  his  own  when  he  says  :  "  There 
is  a  vacuum  in  the  soul  which  nothing  can  fill 
but  God."  There  is  no  surer  proof  of  God 
than  our  spirit's  need  of  Him.  It  is  what 
hunger  is  to  the  body — a  pledge  in  itself 
of  food  somewhere.  The  great  souls  have 
everywhere  realised  this.     What  Walter  Pater 


Necessity,  193 


says  of  Pascal  is  true  of  them  all :  "  It  is  from 
the  homelessness  of  the  world  which  science 
analyses  so  victoriously,  its  dark  unspirituality, 
wherein  the  soul  he  is  conscious  of  seems 
such  a  stranger,  that  Pascal  turns  to  his  rest, 
in  the  conception  of  a  world  of  wholly  reason- 
able and  moral  agencies." 

It  is  a  grand  achievement  for  the  soul 
when,  sure  of  its  place  in  the  world's  spiritual 
order,  sure  of  its  relation  to  and  reinforcement 
from  the  Highest  Life,  it  finds  a  new  necessity 
in  itself,  an  imperative  of  honour  and  noble- 
ness to  which  all  else  within  that  is  inferior 
must  submit.  It  is  here  that  man  becomes 
as  God,  "  who  cannot  deny  Himself."  There 
is  nothing,  indeed,  so  godlike  on  this  earth 
as  the  soul's  imperative.  What  a  height  is 
that  of  Dante  when,  invited  to  return  to 
Florence  at  the  price  of  dishonour,  he  exclaims, 
"  What !  Are  not  the  sun  and  stars  to  be  seen 
in  every  land  ?  Shall  I  not  be  able  under 
every  part  of  heaven  to  meditate  sweet  truth, 
unless  I  first  make  myself  inglorious,  nay, 
ignominious,  to  my  people  and  my  country  ?  " 
When  Luther,  with  a  whole  world  against  him, 
exclaims,  "  I  can  do  no  other,"  he  is  at  one 
with  the  great  exile  ;  he,  too,  is  exhibiting 
the  soul's  necessity  of  being  ever  loyal  to]^the 
highest. 

The  lessons  of  this  theme  are  innumerable, 
but  we  must  leave  our  readers  to  deduce' them. 


194  The  Eternal  Religion. 

They  concern  our  personal  attitude  to  life,  and 
our  whole  method  of  preparation  for  it. 
The  subject  is  one  above  all  for  the  educa- 
tionist. When  we  have  grasped  it  we  shaU 
know,  for  one  thing,  that  in  shielding  the 
young  from  the  sterner  aspects,  the  "  musts  " 
of  the  world,  we  are  cutting  them  off  from  their 
best  friend.  The  ancients  can  teach  us  some- 
thing here.  When  Marcus  Aurelius,  born 
to  the  purple,  testifies  with  gratitude  that 
"  from  my  tutor  I  learned  endurance  of  labour, 
and  to  want  little,  and  to  work  with  my  own 
hands,"  he  shows  the  insight  into  life  which 
so  many  of  us  lack.  We  repeat,  necessity  is  a 
grace  of  God.  That  outside  hardness  yonder 
is  waiting  to  be  translated  into  a  grand  hardi- 
ness in  ourselves.  Through  the  outer  com- 
pulsion we  come  to  an  inner  liberty.  This 
experience  of  what  has  happened  and  is 
happening  in  the  sphere  of  the  known  is 
surely  also  a  pledge  for  all  that  awaits  us  in 
the  sphere  of  the  Unknown.  Death  itself,  as 
part  of  this  spiritual  order,  will  bring  a  result 
not  inferior  to  that  of  life. 


XXII. 
Faith  as  a  Force. 

The  world's  religions  are  frequently  spoken 
of  as  faiths.  The  appellation  is  justified,  for 
religion  is,  was,  and  always  will  be,  founded  on 
faith.  The  eternal  religion  is,  we  may  say,  a 
faith,  and  we  may  well  accordingly  inquire  at 
this  point  as  to  what  precisely  faith  is  and 
how  it  works  as  a  force. 

Two  things,  said  Kant,  filled  him  with  awe 
— the  contemplation  of  the  starry  heavens 
above  and  of  the  moral  law  within.  We  are 
sweeping  both  these  realms  to-day,  and  with 
new  instruments.  Spectrum  analysis,  the 
Lick  telescope  and  stellar  photography  are 
giving  us  a  more  vivid  sense  of  the  infinity  above 
us  than  was  possible  in  Kant's  time.  And 
that  other  subject  of  his  study,  the  inner 
world  of  the  moral  consciousness,  is  in  like 
manner  yielding  fresh  results.  A  new  analysis 
is  being  brought  to  bear  on  the  human  interior, 
in  the  light  of  which  it  is  discovering  itself 
as  more  wonderful,  as  opening  vaster  per- 
spectives even  than  the  immensity  without. 

195 


196  The  Eternal  Religion. 

The  quest  here  opened  touches  the  inmost 
secret  of  rehgion.  In  the  depths  of  man's 
inner  consciousness,  scientifically  probed,  we 
find  at  once  faith's  history,  its  vindication  and  its 
promise  of  the  future.  In  former  times  men 
have  studied  rehgion  as  a  system  of  formulated 
beliefs,  as  an  institution,  an  ecclesiasticism . 
To-day  we  are  broadening  the  reference,  and 
viewing  it  as  a  working  force  in  humanity, 
asking  how  it  got  there  and  what  its  presence 
signifies. 

The  difference  between  earlier  inquiries  on 
this  theme  and  those  which  we  are  upon  to-day 
is,  that  beforetime  men  concentrated  their 
attention  largely  on  the  product  of  this  inner 
force,  whereas  we  are  now  turning  our  gaze 
upon  the  force  itself.  The  thing  I  see  yonder 
may  be  of  the  utmost  interest  and  importance. 
But  whatever  it  be,  it  is  not  to  me  comparable 
in  value  to  the  faculty  by  which  I  see  it. 
It  is  for  lack  of  appreciating  this  difference  that 
theologians  in  the  past  have  made  such 
prodigious  blunders  in  their  estimate  of  the 
sphere  and  efficacy  of  faith.  They  have 
described  faith  from  without  rather  than  from 
within.  At  a  time  when  the  marvellous 
faculty  was  in  its  infancy,  seeing  things  dimly 
and  distortedly,  through  mists  of  ignorance 
and  prejudice,  they  took  its  reports,  in  all 
their  circumstantial  detail,  as  finalities,  the 
very  buttresses   of  refigion  and  the  ground 


Faith  as  a  Fokce.  197 

of  salvation.  Of  this  order  have  we  such 
products  as  the  Athanasian  Creed,  which 
makes  saving  faith  to  be  the  acceptance  of  a 
bewildering  reticulation  of  metaphysical  pro- 
positions. To  call  this  faith  is  as  sensible 
as  to  declare  that  the  stone  wall  I  am  now 
looking  at  is  eyesight. 

It  is  when  they  pursue  theology  through 
the  false  track  it  here  opened,  and  so  long 
followed,  that  the  critics  and  deniers  find  so 
rich  a  harvest  of  crimes  and  misdemeanours 
which  they  lay  to  the  account  of  religion.  K 
we  identify  faith  with  its  cruder  products 
we  have  indeed  a  sorry  business  on  hand. 
We  see  it  then  as  a  persecutor,  perpetrating 
those  cruelties  which  make  Lecky,  speaking 
of  mediaeval  Catholicism,  say  with  truth, 
*'  the  Church  of  Rome  has  inflicted  a  greater 
amount  of  unmerited  suffering  than  any 
other  religion  that  has  ever  existed  amongst 
mankind."  This  confusion  between  the  pro- 
duct and  the  faculty  which  produced  it,  as 
though  the  former  were  the  all- important, 
has  done  wrongs  to  the  mind  not  less  than 
to  the  body.  Mutianus  Rufus,  the  sixteenth- 
century  German  theologian,  has  a  sense  of  this 
when  he  declares  of  his  contemporary  clerics, 
"  By  faith  we  mean  not  the  conformity  of 
what  we  say  with  fact,  but  an  opinion  about 
Divine  things  founded  on  credulity,  and 
persuasion  which  seeks  after  profit."     Indeed, 


198  The  Eternal  Religion. 

if  we  confine  our  notion  of  religious  faith  to 
any  one  of  the  formulated  systems  which  the 
Churches  have  erected,  however  valuable  these 
may  be  in  themselves,  we  shall  miss  the  chief 
argument  from  faith,  as  an  answer  to  present- 
day  unbelief.  The  whole  force  of  the  argu- 
ment lies  in  this,  that  the  human  soul  contains 
the  element  as  one  of  its  working  forces,  and 
that  its  presence  demands  an  explanation  which 
only  a  spiritual  religion  can  give. 

If  at  this  stage  we  are  asked  what  this 
feature  of  our  inner  constitution  really  is,  vr3 
should  be  disposed,  first  of  all,  to  fall  back 
on  a  great  word  of  Calvin,  himself  a  mighty 
system-builder,  but  who,  nevertheless,  saw 
that  faith  in  itself  is  hardly  a  matter  of  defini- 
tion. The  ultimate  forces  rarely  are.  Let  us 
quote  his  pregnant  word  :  "  Assensionem  ipsam 
iterum  repetam  cordis  esse  magis  quam  cerebri,  et 
affectus  magis  quam  intelligentioe.^^  "Again  I 
repeat  that  this  assent  is  an  affair  of  the  heart 
rather  than  of  the  reason,  of  the  feelings  more 
than  of  the  mere  intelligence."  In  its  broadest 
sense,  as  we  find  it  throughout  humanity,  we 
might  speak  of  faith  as  a  sense  of  the  unseen, 
a  feehng  that  we  are  related  to  an  invisible 
and  higher  world,  that  our  destiny  is  essentially 
a  moral  and  spiritual  destiny.  The  feefing 
which  De  Quincey  attributed  to  Coleridge  is 
one  which  might  well  be  ascribed  to  humanity  : 
* '  He  wanted  better  bread  than  can  be  made 


Faith  as  a  Force.  199 


with  wheat."  Let  it  be  proved  that  men 
come  from  the  dust.  The  soul  will  never 
believe  that  the  dust  made  it.  This  sense 
of  an  inner  unseen  universe  that  is  moral, 
to  which  we  are  vitally  related,  and  with 
which  all  our  destinies  are  bound  up,  has 
been  the  prime  working  force  in  the  world. 
It  has  been  the  creator  of  history,  the  founder 
of  rehgions,  the  chief  builder  of  character. 
It  shows  itself  everywhere,  in  art,  in  literature, 
in  all  thinking  and  doing.  It  becomes  latent 
at  times,  as  heat  becomes  latent,  but  is  never 
destroyed.  It  is,  to  all  appearance,  as  in- 
destructible as  oxygen. 

This  power,  we  say,  has  been  at  work  in 
man  from  the  beginning.  From  history's 
earliest  dawn  man  knows  himself  as  spiritual 
and  related  to  an  eternal  moral  order.  The 
Egyptians,  millenniums  before  Christ,  had 
the  clearest  perception  of  a  future  life.  In 
India,  Vedic  hymns  that  are  three  thousand 
five  hundred  years  old  declare  a  belief  in  a 
psychic  body  inside  the  fleshly  one,  by  which 
the  dead  rose  to  the  upper  spheres.  What 
our  later  researches  are  making  increasingly 
plain  is,  that  these  long-forgotten  races,  whom 
in  our  narrower  conception  we  had  thought 
of  as  religiously  outcast  and  uncovenanted, 
had  really  a  knowledge  of  spiritual  law  which 
in  some  respects  was  more  profound  than  our 
own,  and  were  enjoying  a  very  rich  religious 


200  The  Eternal  Religion. 

inheritance.  Much  of  that  higher  Hving  which 
we  have  regarded  as  our  specialty  had  been 
for  thousands  of  years  realised  in  humanity, 
the  possession,  in  its  full  fruition,  of  the 
choicer  spirits,  yet  dimly  discerned  and 
unconsciously  working  among  the  less  en- 
lightened. 

It  will  be  upon  this  vaster  view  that  the 
religion  of  the  future  will  be  framed.  We  are 
in  sight  of  a  scientific  demonstration  of  its 
essential  principle,  which  will  establish  it 
beyond  the  reach  of  doubt,  and  confound 
ahke  the  narrow  sectarianism  that  finds 
salvation  in  some  sectional  shibboleth,  and 
the  more  miserable  nihilism  which  denies 
man  a  soul  and  a  future.  It  is  wonderful 
in  this  connection  to  note  how,  in  each  age, 
the  faith  element  receives  the  aliment  ap- 
propriate to  itself.  To-day  experimental 
science  is  the  greatest  master  of  belief,  and  it 
is  this  science  which  is  beginning  to  furnish 
us  with  evidence,  procured  in  its  own  way, 
for  the  great  religious  affirmations. 

It  is,  for  instance,  giving  us  precisely  the 
proof  which  the  modern  intellect  demands 
of  a  future  existence.  The  moral  life  depends 
on  a  hereafter  as  one  of  the  conditions  of  its 
growth.  Let  humanity  be  persuaded  that 
there  is  no  future,  and  all  its  higher  interests 
wither.  Away  goes  its  romance,  its  aspiration, 
its    beauty    of    holiness,    its    noblest    feeling, 


Faith  as  a  Force.  201 


its  higher  striving.  And  yet  this  belief  in  a 
future  is  dead  against  all  the  testimony  of 
the  senses.  It  is  in  itself  a  mystery  that, 
with  such  a  dead  weight  of  evidence  before 
him,  man  has  so  widely,  so  universally  held 
to  his  idea  of  another  world.  There  have 
been,  indeed,  generations  that  could  not 
resist  the  materialistic  argument.  Diderot's 
sarcasm  seemed  in  the  eighteenth  century  to 
settle  the  matter:  "  If  you  can  believe  insight 
without  eyes,  in  hearing  without  ears,  in 
thinking  without  a  head,  if  you  could  love 
without  a  heart,  feel  without  senses 
.  .  .  then  we  might  indulge  this  hope 
of  a  future  life." 

But  it  is  precisely  on  the  French  philo- 
sopher's own  ground  that  modern  science 
is  meeting  this  doctrine  of  despair.  It  is, 
by  the  demonstrations  of  hypnotism,  proving 
conclusively  that  men  can  see  without  eyes 
and  hear  without  ears ;  that  behind  the 
apparatus  of  the  senses  is  another  and  finer 
apparatus  which  dispenses  with  them,  and 
gives  us  the  phenomena  of  consciousness  apart 
from  nerve  and  brain  tissue.  More,  the 
experiments  of  a  Cahagnet  and  a  Rochas 
give  us  the  astonishing  phenomenon  of  a 
magnetised  person  throwing  off  an  emanation, 
visible  in  the  hypnotic  state,  which  assumes 
the  contours  of  the  body,  and  which  is  as 
sensitive  as  the  body  itself.     Here  is  the  inner 

14 


202  The  Eternal  Religion. 

force  of  a  human  personality  projecting  itself, 
under  certain  mental  conditions,  beyond  the 
body,  and  operating  outside  it.  With  a 
result  like  this  before  us,  as  a  matter  of  common 
experiment,  what  becomes  of  the  argument 
that  our  bodily  life  is  all  ?  Science  is,  in  fact, 
giving  us  a  new  Gospel.  But  its  teaching  is 
the  same  as  the  old  one.  It  is  building  up 
before  our  eyes  the  manifestation  of  an  eternal 
life  of  which  our  present  brief  existence  is 
only  an  initial  stage. 

The  great  souls  in  every  age  have  taught 
this.  It  was  Christ's  message.  He  lived 
in  this  sphere  as  One  who,  in  it,  was  perfectly 
at  home.  The  multitudes  who  have  followed 
Him  have  been  in  like  manner  sure  of  their 
fact.  Their  faith  carried  its  own  proof  by  the 
work  it  did  in  them.  Huxley,  in  a  striking 
passage,  describes  the  evolution  in  a  sala- 
mander's egg,  in  watching  which  "  one  is 
almost  involuntarily  possessed  with  the  idea 
that  some  more  subtle  aid  to  vision  than  the 
microscope  would  show  the  hidden  artist, 
with  his  plan  before  him."  But  a  finer  piece 
of  work  than  the  evolution  of  a  salamander  is 
the  evolution  of  a  soul.  And  here  again 
the  imseen  artist  is  at  work.  The  tools  are 
finei,  but  the  operation  is  unmistakable. 

The  finest  piece  of  artistry  in  the  world 
is  the  spectacle  of  faith  working  upon  a 
personality  and  producing  its  results.     These 


Faith  as  a  Force.  203 

phenomena  of  the  moral  sensibilities,  of  prayer, 
love^  sacrifice,  of  mighty  hopes,  of  sustained 
enthusiasms,  all  energising  in  a  human  interior 
are,  we  say,  the  greatest  sight  the  world  has 
to  show.  Amid  the  shaking  of  the  creeds 
these  things  remain.  The  breaking  down  of 
dogmatic  limitations  is  only  a  widening  of 
faith's  prospect.  The  decay  of  older  evidence 
simply  makes  room  for  more  trustworthy 
affirmations.  We  are  on  the  eve  of  a  mighty 
revival  of  faith.  It  will  emerge  purified 
from  a  thousand  gross  accretions,  established 
upon  immutable  bases,  showing  itself  as  the 
synthesis  of  all  life,  as  the  explanation  of  all 
history,  as  the  motive  of  all  noble  striving. 
With  its  dawn  the  great  age  of  humanity  will 
begin. 


XXIII. 
Religious  Imposture. 

A  DISCUSSION  of  the  permanent  in  religion 
would  hardly  be  complete  without  some  notice 
of  those  excrescences  which  have,  from  time 
to  time,  appeared  on  its  surface,  and  which 
illustrate  better,  perhaps,  than  aught  else 
the  distinction  between  its  essence  and  its 
temporary  environments.  Of  these  the  story 
of  impostm-e  is  one  of  the  most  singular  and 
instructive. 

"  The  country,"  said  Cobden  once,  speaking 
of  England,  "  is  governed  by  the  ignorance 
of  the  country."  Had  he  extended  the 
reference  and  said  "  the  world  "  his  utterance 
would  still  hardly  have  been  exaggerated. 
And  in  no  sphere  has  the  government  of 
ignorance  been  more  despotic  or  far-reaching 
than  that  of  religion.  The  region  it  occupies, 
by  its  very  nature,  gives  unrivalled  oppor- 
tunities for  the  growth  and  success  of  char- 
latanism. Religion  from  the  beginning  has 
been  the  abode  of  mystery.  At  every  point 
it   impinges    on    the   unknown.    It   employs 

204 


Heligiotts  Imposture.  205 


as  among  its  chief  instruments  three  factors, 
each  of  which,  when  fully  developed,  has  the 
power  of  paralysing  the  reason — we  mean 
the  elements  of  imagination,  of  hope,  and  of 
fear.  When  we  combine  with  these  features 
the  naive  and  childish  conceptions  of  the 
universe  which  prevailed  in  earlier  ages  of  the 
world's  history,  it  is  not  difficult  for  us  to 
understand  the  rise  and  progress,  the  vagaries, 
and  often  the  astounding  success,  of  the 
rehgious  impostor. 

The  story  here  is,  indeed,  a  pitiful  one,  but 
it  is  certainly  not  without  its  humorous 
side.  Our  impostor  is  usually  a  character, 
and  often  a  most  interesting  character.  He 
is  going  strong  in  these  later  ages,  but  we 
doubt  whether  the  earlier  practitioner  could 
not  give  points  to  his  modern  successor. 
In  the  non-scientific  times  he  held  all  the 
cards.  Human  credulity  in  our  day  is  a 
marvellously  rich  field,  but  in  antiquity  it 
was  not  only  rich  but  boundless.  One  of  the 
best  illustrations  we  know  of  its  possibilities, 
under  the  handling  of  a  clever  rogue,  is  the 
story  of  Alexander  of  Abonotichos,  as  told, 
with  all  his  unrivalled  power  of  sarcastic 
description,  by  Lucian,  that  Heine  of  the 
second  century.  Alexander  was  a  "  whole 
hogger."  Amid  the  crowd  of  magicians  and 
soothsayers  who  swarmed  in  the  Roman 
Empire  in  his  century,  he  shines  forth  "  Velut 


206  The  Eternal  Religion. 

inter  ignes  Luna  minores."  He  was  a  great 
healer  and  a  deliverer  of  oracles.  His  mission, 
he  declared,  was  religious.  Himself  descended, 
as  he  gave  out,  from  Perseus,  he  carried  with 
him  a  serpent,  on  which  he  had  fastened  an 
artificial  head  with  human  features,  and  which 
he  introduced  to  his  astonished  auditories  as 
an  incarnation  of  ^Esculapius.  He  employed 
an  army  of  spies,  who  ascertained  for  him 
the  private  history  of  the  people  who  came 
to  him  for  advice.  This  knowledge,  besides 
convincing  his  clients  of  his  inspiration, 
enabled  him  to  add  enormously  to  his  revenue 
by  the  levying  of  blackmail.  No  exposures 
shook  the  people's  faith  in  him.  He  lived 
magnificently,  and  with  the  grossest  licence. 
He  maintained  his  popularity  to  the  last,  and 
died  at  the  age  of  seventy.  The  modern 
practitioner  in  this  line  might  study  his 
predecessor  with  advantage. 

In  speaking  of  religious  imposture  we  have, 
however,  to  discriminate.  There  is  a  wide- 
spread variety  of  it  which  has  no  relation 
to  the  rascaUties  of  an  Alexander  or  his 
imitators.  In  this  region  of  things  the  world 
has  been,  for  ages,  addicted  to  imposing 
on  itself.  Generation  after  generation  has 
been  brought  up  on  illusions  which  they  have 
lived  in  and  loved.  The  study,  for  instance, 
of  the  early  Christian  centuries  offers  us  in 
this  regard  some  puzzling  and  even  painful 


Religious  Imposture.  207 

problems.  When  Middle  ton,  in  his  "  Free 
Inquiry,"  published  his  famous  attack  on 
the  patristic  miracles,  he  created  a  terrible 
flutter  in  the  ecclesiastical  dovecotes  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  but  his  allegations  we 
now  recognise  -as  all  too  true.  Men  in  those 
dayB,  religious  men,  had  no  historical  sense, 
no  feeling  for  accuracy.  The  more  amazing 
a  story  was  the  more  ground  tor  accepting  it, 
and  for  spreading  its  fame.  Pious  frauds 
were  the  fashion.  Clerical  writers  forged 
other  people's  names  without  a  thought  of 
doing  wrong.  The  "  Acts  of  Paul  and  Thecla," 
the  "Gospel  of  Peter,"  the  "Gospel 
of  Thomas,"  and  scores  of  similar  publications 
were  the  work  of  men  who,  in  putting  fictitious 
names  on  their  title-page  in  place  of  their 
own,  imagined  they  were  performing  a  meri- 
torious act.  And  so,  as  we  read  their  accounts 
of  signs  and  wonders,  we  are  inclined  to 
cry  with  our  Meredith  in  "  The  Shaving  of 
Shagpat  "  : 

Oh  world  diseased  !     Oh  race  empirical ! 
Where  fools  are  the  fathers  of  every  miracle  ! 

What  an  amazing  story,  for  instance,  to 
which  fathers  of  such  standing  as  Gregory 
Nazianzen,  Sozomen  and  Theodoret  lend  their 
names,  that  of  the  occurrences  at  Jerusalem 
when  the  Emperor  Julian  ordered  the  founda- 
tions to  be  dug  for  a  new  Jewish  temple  ! 


208  The  Eternal  Religion. 

These  writers  gravely  tell  us  not  only  of  a 
whirlwind  and  an  earthquake,  but  of  balls 
of  fire,  the  appearance  of  a  luminous  cross  in 
the  sky,  and  of  crosses,  "  star-shaped  and  of 
blackish  hue,"  imprinted  on  the  garments 
of  the  beholders  !  When,  from  the  heathen 
standpoint,  Suetonius  speaks  of  the  super- 
natural generation  of  Augustus,  and  gives 
the  account  of  great  wonders  in  the  sky 
at  his  birth,  we  realise  that  we  have  here  the 
same  attitude  of  mind  and  level  of  knowledge 
as  gave  birth  to  the  prodigies  of  these 
ecclesiastical  historians  of  ours. 

There  is  in  this  line  of  things  one  department 
which  in  the  present  day  seems  to  call  for 
some  special  notice.  We  refer  to  the  matter 
of  healing  and  of  the  so-called  faith-healing. 
That  question  is  very  closely  bound  up  with 
religion,  and  especially  with  Christianity. 
Christ's  own  work  was,  we  read,  accompanied 
everywhere  with  great  healings.  The  apostles 
followed  here  in  their  Master's  track,  and 
down  through  the  ages  the  great  saints  have 
been  almost  invariably  credited  with  similar 
works.  Augustine  records  seventy  miracles 
wrought  in  two  years  in  his  own  diocese  of 
Hippo  by  the  body  of  St.  Stephen.  We  should 
doubt  the  authority  of  many  of  them,  but  it  is 
more  diflficult  to  deny  the  testimony  of  St. 
Bernard,  who  speaks  not  only  as  eye-witness, 
but  as  agent,    when,   in  the  account   of  his 


Religious  Imposture.  209 

preaching  the  second  Crusade,  he  says  :  "  I 
ask  myself  with  the  deepest  astonishment 
what  these  miracles  mean,  and  why  it  has 
pleased  God  to  do  such  things  by  the  hands 
of  a  man  like  me  ?  ...  It  seems  to  me 
I  have  read  of  nothing  more  wonderful  even 
in  Scripture."  The  rankest  scepticism  can 
hardly  pass  over  a  statement  of  that  kind, 
and  there  are  others  not  less  authoritative. 
David  Hume  refers  to  the  cures  at  the  tomb 
of  the  Abbe  Paris  in  1731,  in  which  Charcot, 
the  modern  exponent  of  hypnotism,  avows 
his  belief  as  proved  facts. 

The  question  now  is,  if  we  admit  these 
statements  as  true,  what  do  we  make  of  them  ; 
and  especially  what  is  their  relation  to  our 
theme  of  religious  imposture  ?  The  results 
of  modern  investigation  enable  us,  happily, 
on  a  question  which  beforetime  was  met 
either  with  unreasoning  scepticism  or  an 
unreasoning  credulity,  to  adopt  a  different 
and  saner  attitude.  These  results  have  re- 
vealed to  us  for  one  thing  the  presence  of 
psychic  powers  in  the  human  constitution, 
barely  perceptible  in  some,  but  in  certain 
select  spirits  present  to  a  degree  which  have 
rendered  them  capable  of  producing  almost 
incalculable  effects.  These  powers,  it  is  seen, 
can  work  with  an  almost  equal  result  on  both 
mental  and  bodily  conditions.  When,  as  in 
the  crusade  of  which  Bernard  speaks,  or  in 


210  The  Eternal  Religion. 

the  extraordinary  excitements  around  the 
Abbe  Paris  tomb,  the  emotions  of  the  recipient 
multitude  are  wrought  to  a  high  pitch,  the 
psychic  possibihties  are  enormously  increased. 
It  is  then,  especially,  that  the  potency  as  a 
healer  of  that  "  self-suggestion "  of  which 
modern  hjrpnotism  has  given  us  the  law  ia 
revealed.  The  mind,  wrought  to  the  point 
of  upturning  its  own  hidden  powers,  turns 
upon  itself  and  the  body  which  contains 
it  with  an  almost  magical  effect.  It  is  then, 
also,  that  the  magnetism  of  the  healer  outside, 
be  it  a  St.  Paul  or  a  Bernard,  pours  itself 
in  on  the  receptive  organism  with  resistless 
power.  The  influence  of  one  personality  on 
another  wherever  exercised,  whether  that 
of  an  orator  on  his  hearers,  or  of  a  general 
ordering  his  troops  to  the  charge,  is  ever 
a  mystery.  To  compel  another  man's  will 
by  our  volition  is  as  real  a  wonder,  though 
we  have  not  thought  it  so,  as  to  move  by  the 
same  subtle  force  his  nerve  and  muscular 
system  towards  cure  and  strength. 

But  how  does  all  this  bear  upon  religious 
imposture  ?  We  can  now  come  to  that. 
The  point  for  us  here  to  remember  is  that 
while  many  saintly  men  have  possessed  in 
an  unusual  degree  the  personal  magnetism, 
the  psychic  force  of  which  we  have  spoken, 
its  possession  does  not  by  any  means  in  itself 
prove  the  possession  of  saintliness.     We  may, 


Religious  Imposture.  211 

if  we  will,  call  it  a  great  gift  of  God,  but  these 
other  powers,  reason,  imagination,  eloquence, 
volition,  are  also  great  gifts  of  God,  yet  one 
and  all  of  them  may  be  used  for  the  most 
sinister  purposes.  There  is  no  reason  why 
the  curative  power,  just  as  much  as  the  power 
of  reasoning,  may  not  be  exploited  for  un- 
worthy ends.  It  is  not  difficult,  indeed,  in 
the  light  of  what  we  now  know  both  of  history 
and  the  inner  working  of  the  human  mind, 
to  trace  the  genesis  and  development  of  the 
"  faith-heahng "  movements  by  which  the 
Dowies  and  the  Eddys  have  in  our  time 
made  themselves  so  notorious.  These  people 
discover  in  themselves  a  certain  power,  which 
they  exercise  at  first  in  a  manner  that  is 
entirely  legitimate.  But  their  success  in  time 
upsets  their  moral  equilibrium — alas  for  poor 
human  nature,  it  is  so  easily  upset ! — and 
we  have  our  practitioners,  by-and-by,  making 
claims  and  assumptions  about  themselves 
which  are  perhaps  not  so  much  a  deliberate 
fraud  as  the  self-deception  of  a  diseased  and 
abnormal  vanity. 

In  what  has  been  said  we  have  only  touched 
the  fringes  of  an  immense  subject.  There  are 
wide  departments  of  it,  all  too  visible  and 
active  in  our  day,  which  we  will  only  here 
hint  at.  We  have  still  with  us,  in  our  com- 
mercial circles,  the  man  who  makes  his 
orthodoxy    a    cover   for   the   shadiest   trans- 


212  The  Eternal  Religion. 

actions  ;  the  adventurer  who  exploits  for  his 
own  purposes  a  religious  reputation,  after 
having  lost  the  religion  on  which  it  was 
originally  founded.  There  are  Sicilian  bandits 
who  go  to  mass  before  setting  out  on  tbeir 
predatory  expeditions.  Nearer  home  their 
counterparts  sing  anthems  and  hear  sermons 
in  our  churches  before  robbing  their  neighbours 
in  the  City. 

Is  the  Church  itself  to-day  free  from  im- 
posture ?  Some  of  us  fail  to  understand  how 
good  men  can  subscribe  creeds  in  which  they 
do  not  believe.  Another  side  of  the  matter 
is  exhibited  in  Maurice's  wonder  "  that  the 
faith  of  scientific  men  in  the  Bible  has  not 
utterly  perished  when  they  see  by  what 
tricks  we  are  sustaining  it."  His  criticism 
applies  with  absolute  accuracy  to  certain  modern 
apologetics.  One  wonders  whether  statements 
made  by  seemingly  capable  and  one  would 
fain  think  honest  men  are  from  sheer  ignorance 
and  stupidity,  or,  if  not,  by  what  strange 
process  an  apparently  sane  mind  has  so 
completely  hid  itself  from  the  truth.  In 
presence  of  some  of  the  dogmatisms  of  our 
religious  leaders  we  cry  with  Kant,  "  0 
Candour,  thou  Astraea  who  art  fled  from 
earth  to  heaven,  how  shall  man  draw  thee, 
the  ground  of  conscience  and  of  all  inner 
religion,  back  again !  "  If  only  we  would 
remember,  all  of  us,  that  a  religion  which  is 


Religious  Imposture.  213 

worth  anything  must  have  truth,  honesty 
and  candour  among  its  very  presuppositions  ! 
And  why  are  we  afraid  of  truth  ?  Do  we 
suppose  that  when  its  most  vigorous  demand 
has  been  satisfied,  any  true  spiritual  possession 
can  be  lost  to  humanity  ?  It  were  blasphemy 
to  the  God  of  truth  to  think  so. 


XXIV. 
The  Soul's  Emancipation. 

One  of  the  questions  with  which  the 
eternal  religion  has  always  concerned  itself, 
and  which  to  the  end  will  be  one  of  its  supreme 
preoccupations,  is  that  of  inner  freedom. 
The  earliest  human  consciousness  is  a  sense 
of  inner  bondage,  its  earliest  expression  a  sigh 
for  deliverance.  The  Platonic  philosophy, 
borrowed  in  its  turn  from  the  East,  was  fond 
of  describing  the  soul  as  an  exile  from  a  higher 
sphere,  encased  in  the  flesh  as  in  a  prison, 
awaiting  its  emancipation  in  another  life.  All 
the  theologies  have  centred  upon  the  same 
conception.  The  world  religions  are  so  many 
prescriptions  for  securing  spiritual  liberty. 
The  remedies  often  seem  fanciful,  based  upon 
theories  badly  in  want  of  foundation.  What 
for  many  of  us  is  more  interesting  than  the 
theories  is  the  individual  testimony,  the  story 
of  the  actual  himian  experience.  It  is  a 
wonderful  and  enthralling  story.  Through  the 
ages  men  have  been  calling  to  each  other  as  to 
how  they  have  fared  in  this  mighty  strife. 

214 


The  Soul's  Emancipation.         215 


What  is  the  verdict  ?  Is  there  any  consensus 
of  opinion  on  which  we  can  found  ourselves  ? 
Have  men  ever  won  their  freedom  ?  Have 
they  discovered  a  road  to  it  on  which  we  can 
confidently  travel  ? 

In  looking  for  the  answer  it  would  be  easy 
to  take  a  narrow  view.  We  might  shut  our- 
selves up  in  an  ecclesiastical  formula — ^pre- 
scribed as  medicine  vendors  prescribe  their 
pills — and  declare  men  to  be  free  or  in  bondage 
as  they  stand  in  relation  to  this  formula. 
But  there  were  souls  in  the  world  before  our 
formula,  souls  which  felt  in  themselves  the 
same  primal  necessities,  which  were  embarked 
on  the  same  pilgrimage,  were  conscious  of  the 
same  limitations,  and  had  glimmering  before 
them  the  same  far-off  goal.  These  also  are 
our  kin.  Our  fortunes  are  bound  up  with 
theirs.  If,  in  this  universe,  no  good  was 
intended  for  them,  there  is  none  intended  for 
us.  We  cannot  be  indifferent  to  their  experi- 
ence. It  would,  indeed,  be  the  most  heathenish 
of  actions  to  cut  ourselves  off  in  spirit  or 
sympathy  from  these  outsiders.  For  in  the 
fate  of  one  soul  is  bound  up  the  fate  of  us  all. 

At  first  sight  it  seems  all  a  confusion — this 
fight  of  men  for  their  emancipation,  and  the 
results  of  the  battle.  Multitudes  of  us  profess, 
and  with  all  sincerity,  that  we  have  found 
in  religion  our  inner  deliverance.  How,  then, 
are  we  to  account  for  a  Lucretius,  expressing 


216  The  Eternal  Religion. 

in  magnificent  verse  his  conviction  that  in  the 
rejection  of  religion,  and  of  its  teaching  about 
death  and  after  death,  man  would  alone 
find  his  liberty  ?  And  of  modern  men  what 
precisely  is  contained  in  that  verdict  of  Pattison, 
the  representative  of  the  latest  Oxford  culture, 
who,  recording  his  own  experience,  declares  : 
"  It  cost  me  years  moreof  extrication  of  thought 
before  I  rose  to  the  conception  that  the 
highest  life  is  the  art  to  live,  and  that  both 
men,  women  and  books  are  equally  essential 
ingredients  of  such  a  life  !  "  This  is  hardly 
a  theological  extrication !  Then,  next  door 
to  us  is  France,  with  its  forty  millions  of  vivid 
souls  embarked  on  this  same  life  venture  as 
ourselves.  These,  too,  have  struggled  for 
freedom,  and  how  strange  to  us  the  method 
and  outcome  !  One  might  call  it  the  Voltairian 
way  of  setthng  everything  with  a  laugh.  "  II 
fait  le  tout  en  badinant.'  History  is  "  La 
Comedie  Humaine."  The  emancipation  here 
seems  often  an  emancipation  at  once  from  fear 
and  from  hope.  What  a  philosophy  of  life  is 
represented  by  these  Hnes  of  Leconte  de  Lisle : 

Le  faible  Bouffre  et  pleure,  et  I'insense  s'irrite, 
Mais  le  plus  sage  en  rit,  saohant  qu'il  doit  mourir  ! 

(The  feeble  suffer  and  weep  ;  the  fool  gets  angry ;  but 
the  wise  man  laughs  at  it  all,  knowing  that  he  must  die.) 

Are  these,   then,   the  final  results   of    the 
world's    wisdom  ?     Is    this    the    end    of    its 


The  Soul's  Emancipation.  217 

search  for  freedom  ?  Knowing  all  that  the 
Church  teaches,  and  knowing  also  aU  that 
the  world  from  its  experience  of  life  has  said 
in  reply,  are  we,  at  this  end  of  the  age,  in 
possession  of  anything  certain  as  to  the  true 
inward  Hberty  ? 

We  believe  there  is  a  reassuring  answer 
to  this  question.  The  outlook  is  not  nearly 
so  confusing  as  it  might  at  first  seem.  The 
world,  divided  much  in  details,  has,  neverthe- 
less, learned  something  as  to  the  essentials 
on  which  we  may  safely  count.  It  is,  for  one 
thing,  becoming  ever  clearer  that  while  the 
religion  of  terror  of  which  Lucretius  spoke 
was  a  bondage  from  which  men  were  well 
advised  to  get  dehverance,  nevertheless,  the 
inner  liberty  is  achieved  through  religion. 
We  cannot  get  on  satisfactorily  in  this  universe 
except  by  an  act  of  faith.  As  Sabatier  has 
put  it :  "  Science  will  never  tell  us,  outside 
an  act  of  faith,  why  life  is  to  be  lived  well." 
This  act  of  faith  founds  itseK  upon  facts  of  the 
inner  consciousness.  It  argues  from  a  moral 
order  which  it  discovers  there  to  a  moral 
order  outside  itself,  and  which  encompasses 
and  rules  the  whole  existing  system  of  things. 
And  this  order  is  a  good  and  a  beneficent 
order.  For  man  has  found  his  world  to  be 
on  the  whole  a  good  world.  He  has  found, 
as  Renan  puts  it,  "  there  are  few  situations 
in  the  vast  field  of  existence     .     .     .    wherein 

15 


218  The  Eternal  Religion. 

the  balance  of  debt  and  credit  does  not  leave 
a  little  surplus  of  happiness."  The  most 
suffering  of  mortals  have  been  those  who 
have  realised  this  the  most  clearly.  It  was 
when  Stevenson  had  been  worn  to  a  thread 
by  his  fatal  illness  that  he  attained  that 
"  belief  in  the  kindness  of  the  scheme  of 
things,  and  the  goodness  of  our  veiled  God," 
which  he  found  to  be  "  an  excellent  and  paci- 
fying compensation."  A  man  who  has  reached 
to  so  much  faith  as  this  has  dropped  one  of 
the  heaviest  weights  that  clog  the  soul. 

But  religion,  and  Christianity  especially 
as  its  highest  exponent,  has  been  emancipator 
in  another  sphere.  Emerson  once  described 
men  as  "  having  the  appearance  of  being 
whipped  through  the  world."  Who  are  the 
drivers  ?  In  most  cases  the  animal  passions 
presided  over  by  a  bad  conscience.  In  this 
region  the  religion  of  Galilee  has  indeed 
wrought  miracles.  Its  proclamation  of 
"  dehverance  to  the  captive  "  has  in  no  wise 
belied  itself.  It  is  a  religion  of  conversions, 
where  the  predominating,  exultant  sense  has 
been  of  a  new,  free  and  upward-bearing 
moral  life.  Let  the  psychologist  explain  the 
thing  as  he  will,  the  facts  are  there,  multiplying 
daily  before  our  eyes.  They  are  the  verifica- 
tion of  what  Edmond  Scherer,  sceptic  as  he 
was,  found  himself  compelled  to  admit : 
*'  If  there  is  anything  certain  in  this  world 


The  Soul's  Emancipation.  219 


it  is  that  the  destinies  of  the  Bible  are  linked 
with  the  destinies  of  holiness  on  earth.'* 

But  there  are  some  broader  aspects  of  this 
question,  which  the  fullest  acquiescence  in 
what  religion  has  to  teach  us  should  by  no 
means  permit  us  to  neglect.  What  Pattison, 
as  we  have  quoted  him,  is  after,  what  France 
seeks,  is  a  side  of  the  matter  which  religion 
has  too  often  left  out.  There  are  multitudes 
of  religious  people  who  are  by  no  means 
emancipated.  They  have  not  yet  learned 
the  full  art  of  living.  The  education  for  life 
has,  indeed,  a  good  many  branches,  and 
excellent  people,  on  all  sides  of  us,  are  to-day 
groaning  in  bondage  because  of  non-pro- 
ficiency in  one  or  other  of  them.  In  some 
branches  we  seem  to  have  gone  back  rather 
than  forward.  Who  can  doubt  that  the 
Spartan  and  Stoic  cult  of  physical  hardihood 
was,  for  instance,  a  step  towards  inner  freedom  ! 
Was  not  that  a  splendid  lesson  which  Marcus 
Aurelius  learned  from  his  tutor  ?  "I  learned," 
says  he,  "  endurance  of  labour,  and  to  want 
little,  and  to  work  with  my  own  hands." 
Not  all  his  imperial  legions  could  win  him 
such  conquests  as  these.  Mme.  de  Genlis 
must  surely  have  planned  her  scheme  of 
education  on  this  model  when  she  taught 
Louis  Philippe  as  a  youth  "  to  wait  on  himself, 
to  despise  all  softness,  to  sleep  regularly  on  a 
hard  bed,  to  brave  sun,  rain  and  cold,  and  to 


220  The  Eternal  Religion. 

endure  the  greatest  fatigues."  Whether  we 
be  prince  or  peasant,  Christian  or  pagan,  these 
are  teachings  with  the  marrow  of  reality  in 
them.  We  are  becoming  enslaved  to  softness 
in  our  time.  The  Christian  professor  and  the 
pronounced  agnostic  are  alike  in  being  un- 
comfortable unless  their  luxuries  are  to  hand. 
But  all  that  is  treason  to  the  inner  liberty. 
What  we  should  incessantly  cultivate  is  a 
limber  soul  that  sits  easily  to  circumstance. 
We  are  bunglers  in  life's  first  principles  unless 
we  can  sing  the  heart's  song  with  bread  and 
water  for  our  meal  and  a  board  for  our  couch. 
The  laugh  of  Le  Sage  at  the  English  people 
"  that  they  are  the  most  miserable  people  in 
the  world,  with  their  liberty,  their  property 
and  their  three  meals  a  day,"  has  some  point. 
So  long  as  our  happiness  holds  of  a  given  round 
of  physical  comforts  we  may  call  ourselves 
by  what  name  we  choose,  but  we  are  slaves 
and  not  free  men. 

Another  lesson  which,  alas !  the  world 
has  had  to  learn  outside  the  Churches,  is  on  the 
relation  of  knowledge  to  inner  emancipation. 
It  is  here,  indeed,  that  the  great  name  of 
religion  has  been,  and  still  is,  invoked  for  the 
forces  that  make  for  bondage.  Half -educated 
people  (and  our  English  folk  are  among  the 
least  educated  of  civiHsed  nations)  are  tyran- 
nised over  by  ardent  religionists  who  announce 
exploded  opinions  as  tests  of  piety.    The  biting 


The  Soul's  Emancipation.         221 

words  of  Hazlitt  are  still  appropriate  :  "  We 
may  believe,  and  know,  not  only  that  a  thing 
is  false,  but  that  others  believe  and  know 
it  to  be  so,  that  they  are  quite  as  much  in  the 
secret  of  the  imposture  as  we  are,  .  .  .  and 
yet  if  anyone  has  the  art  or  power  to  get  the 
management  of  it,  he  shall  keep  possession 
of  the  public  ear,  and  by  dint  of  effrontery 
and  perseverance,  make  all  the  world  believe 
and  repeat  what  all  the  world  knows  to  be 
false."  It  is  only  when  the  English  people 
study  such  subjects  as  the  Bible,  not  simply 
by  listening  to  fervid  platform  addresses, 
but  by  a  calm  analysis  of  the  facts  of  the  case, 
as  they  have  been  accumulated  and  tabulated 
by  scientific  research,  that  they  will  find  them- 
selves free  from  the  tyranny  of  dogmatic 
and  irrelevant  appeal.  It  is  when  we  know 
the  origin  of  so  many  of  the  doctrines  that 
have  coerced  and  terrified  men,  know  their 
source  as  purely  human,  and  as  having  arisen 
in  ages  of  less  enlightenment  than  our  own, 
that  we  are  able  quietly  to  assert  our  freedom 
from  their  control,  however  pretentious  the 
auspices  under  which  they  are  asserted. 

And  yet  mental  freedom  is  only  one  of  the 
ways  to  the  soul's  emancipation.  It  is  not 
here  that  the  greatest  victory  is  gained.  That 
is  a  moral  one.  We  have  not  tasted  real  liberty 
till  we  have  got  the  true  measure  of  what  the 
world  calls  success,  till  we  have  learned  to  be 


222  The  Eternal  Religion. 

satisfied  from  within  and  not  from  without. 
The  best  men  in  all  ages  have  sooner  or  later 
come  to  this.  Gregory  of  Nazianzen  records 
their  experience  in  his  own  :  "  Therefore  I 
have  returned  into  myself,  and  deem  quiet 
the  only  safety  of  the  soul."  We  find  out 
with  Fenelon  that  the  best  freedom  is  freedom 
from  vain  expectation.  In  a  letter  to  his  friend 
Des touches  he  says  :  "  I  ask  Httle  of  men. 
I  seek  to  give  them  much  and  expect  from 
them  nothing."  We  discover  the  wisdom 
of  that  French  saying  :  "  If  we  have  not  what 
we  like,  let  us  like  what  we  have."  Does 
the  world  take  little  or  no  notice  of  us  ?  What 
then  ?  Are  we  not  on  the  side  of  that  character 
in  Hazlitt,  who  "  sees  enough  in  the  Universe 
to  interest  him,  without  putting  himself 
forward  to  fix  the  eyes  of  the  Universe  upon 
him "  ?  Is  ours  a  private  rather  than  a 
public  place  ;  are  we  remote  from  the  seats 
of  power  ?  Let  us  thank  God  for  our  destiny. 
Jeremy  Taylor  at  Golden  Grove,  his  Welsh 
retreat,  where  his  status  was  that  of  a  domestic 
chaplain,  was  infinitely  better  off  than  when 
Bishop  of  Down  and  Connor.  It  was  not  in 
his  bishopric  but  in  his  humble  position  that 
he  had  his  sublimes t  visions,  his  heavenliest 
thoughts,  and  that  he  wrote  the  works  that 
have  been  the  comfort  and  inspiration  of 
multitudes.  Cardinal  Mazarin  died,  as  the 
world  calls  it,  a  rich  man.  But  how  poor  was 


The  Soul^s  Emancipation.  ^2"^ 

Mazarin  on  that  day  when,  almost  at  the  end, 
dragging  himself  through  the  gallery  of  his 
splendid  palace,  Brienne  overheard  him  say, 
as  he  surveyed  his  treasures,  "  II  faut  quitter 
tout  cela  !  " 

Our  emancipation  is  accomplished  when 
the  soul,  free  from  fears  because  sure  of  its 
place  in  the  Divine  order,  accepts  each  day 
as  a  new  gift  from  God,  looks  back  on  its  past 
with  gratitude,  and  forward  with  the  joy  of 
perfect  trust. 


XXV.  :;  . 

Recog:nitions. 

Few  people,  except  ecclesiastical  students, 
know  nowadays  anything  of  the  "  Clementine 
Recognitions."  But  the  book  was  vastly 
favourite  reading  amongst  the  Christians  of 
the  early  centuries.  In  it,  mixed  up  with  a 
religious  teaching  which  sounds  strange  to  our 
ears,  is  a  romance,  in  which  people  closely 
akin  are  for  a  while  in  contact  with  each  other, 
without  suspecting  their  relationship,  until 
the  moment  of  revealing  comes,  when  they 
discover  they  are  of  the  same  household. 
The  story  is  clumsy  enough  in  its  setting — 
the  Christian  in  search  of  literary  diversion 
seems  in  those  days  to  have  been  easily  satisfied- 
But  its  theme  is  infinitely  suggestive.  It  is  a 
parable  of  the  world  and  ourselves.  For  life 
as  we  know  it  is  a  drama  of  recognitions. 
We  go  about  amongst  men  and  things  as 
strangers,  with  our  eyes  holden  ;  and  then,  as 
in  a  flash,  they  stand  revealed  as  tied  to  us 
by  all  manner  of  new,  yet  eternally  old  relation- 
ships. 

224 


Eecognitcions.  225 


To  begin  with,  we  may  note  that  all  our 
knowing   is   really   a   recognition — that   is  to 
say,    a   re-knowing.     Our   every    act   of   per- 
ception is  full  of  memory.     We  can  see  this 
most    clearly    by    analysing    what    goes    on 
within  us  when  we  are  examining  what  we 
call  a  new  object.     Our  instinct  is  to  classify 
it,  and  for  this  we  immediately  call  up  all  we 
remember    of    objects    that    approach    it    in 
similarity.  The  new  perception,  when  complete, 
is,  we  see,  the  fitting  in  of  the  fresh  sensation 
to  a  thousand,  thousand  former  acts  of  memory. 
We  scarcely,  indeed,  realise  to  what  an  extent 
our  daily  experience  is  a  constant  recognition. 
We  open  our  eyes  in  the  morning  and  see  the 
sky,  the  sun,  the  earth,  the  myriad  surround- 
ings of  our  household  life.     We  are  hardly  con- 
scious of  a  mental  act  in  surveying  them  ; 
it  is  all  so  easy,  so  much  a  matter  of  course. 
And  yet  how  stupendous  and  how  mysterious 
an  act  it  is  that  we  perform  !    For  every  one 
in   this  countless   host  of   objects,    from    the 
greatest  to  the  smallest,  in  the  heavens  and 
on    the    earth,    represents      a    separate     re- 
collection,   the    comparison    with    an    image 
that  lay  before    in  our  minds.     Every  glance 
of  our  eye  carries  innumerable  classifications. 
If  we  can  imagine  our  waking  up  one  morning 
and  finding  nothing  above  or  beneath  that  we 
recognised,  we  may  get  some  idea  of  what 
actually    is    involved    in    our    daily    mental 


226  The  Eteri^al  Religion. 

round.  We  see,  then,  that  the  world  for  us 
is  so  full  without  because  we  have  so  full  a 
world  within. 

But  that  is  only  a  beginning.  When  we 
look  upon  the  world,  we  know  it,  we  say, 
to  be  the  same,  day  by  day,  as  the  one  our  mind 
has  reported  to  us  before.  But  as  our  know- 
ledge of  it  deepens  there  comes  a  recognition  of 
a  deeper  kind.  We  discover  something  behind. 
Just  as,  in  our  acquaintances,  the  body  we  see 
is  the  visible  expression  of  an  unseen  reality 
beneath — a  mind,  a  character,  which  is  the 
thing  we  really  value  in  them — so,  in  all  the 
deeper  thinking  both  of  the  East  and  of  the 
West,  does  the  matter  stand  as  between  our- 
selves and  the  universe.  The  very  fact  that 
we  regard  the  world  as  intelligible  supposes 
that  it  is  an  expression  of  intelligence.  Our 
mind  fits  the  world  only  by  means  of  the  mind 
that  is  in  the  world.  The  cosmos,  narrowly 
viewed,  is  indeed  nothing  less  than  petrified 
thought.  When  we  speak  of  its  laws,  of  its 
powers,  of  its  cause  and  effect,  we  are  at  every 
word  naming  the  attributes  of  mind.  And 
thus  we  come  to  the  great  Recognition.  We 
look  into  the  universe  as  into  a  mirror,  and 
see  there  the  face  of  God.  The  voice  that 
utters  itself  in  the  depths  of  the  soul  is  that 
which  makes  the  music  of  the  spheres.  That 
is  no  parochial  befief.  It  is  the  verdict  of 
humanity.    Protestant  Germany  utters  it   in 


HbcognitiokS.  ^27 


Luther's  saying :  "  God  is  in  the  smallest 
creature,  in  a  leaf,  a  blade  of  grass  "  ;  and  hoary 
India  re-echoes  the  mystery  in  the  great 
word  of  the  Bhagavad  Gita  :  "  I  am  moisture 
in  the  water,  light  in  the  sun  and  moon, 
sound  in  the  firmament,  human  nature  in 
mankind,  savour  in  the  earth,  glory  in  the 
source  of  light ;  .  .  .  I  am  the  eternal 
seed  of  all  nature." 

We  reach  a  further  stage  on  this  road 
when  we  find,  as  we  shall  if  we  go  far 
enough,  that  all  rehgious  conviction  of  the 
true  kind  is,  first  and  foremost,  a  recognition. 
If  the  time  ever  comes  when  a  history  of 
Christianity  can  be  written  from  a  world- 
inclusive  standpoint,  it  will  then  be  seen  that 
the  unique  force  of  the  Gospel  has  lain  always 
in  this,  that  there,  as  nowhere  else,  has  been 
offered  for  man's  recognition  the  image  and 
example  of  his  truest  seK.  We  may  remember 
in  this  connection  Aristotle's  dictum  in  the 
"  Politics,"  that  "  the  nature  of  a  thing  is 
that  which  it  has  become  when  its  process  of 
development  is  completed."  That  is  the  other 
side  of  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  ideas,  that  behind 
and  antecedent  to  things  as  we  see  them  are  the 
ideas  of  them  which  are  perfect  and  eternal. 
Every  man  carries  in  him  the  plan  of  a  Perfect 
which  his  own  nature  at  once  suggests  and 
craves  after.  And  the  first  fresh  emotion 
which  everywhere  has  sprung  in  the  human 


228  The  Etebnal  Religion. 

heart  in  studying  the  Gospels  and  the  Life 
there  depicted  has  been  this  leap  of  kinship. 
Here  the  soul  at  last  has  met  its  mate,  its 
answer,  its  completion.  Its  own  unuttered 
Gospel  has  found  voice.  Here  at  last  is  the 
Divine  Idea  expressed  in  adequate  form. 
Humanity  labouring  through  the  ages  has  at 
length  brought  forth.  Now  at  last  it  knows 
itself  divine,  for  here  is  Immanuel  ! 

And  as  with  the  central  heart  of  the  Gospel, 
so  is  it  with  every  doctrine  that  is  drawn  from 
it.     We  have  had,  in  the  history  of  Christendom, 
innumerable    theological    systems  ;    doctrines 
of   Incarnation,   of  the  Atonement,  of  Resur- 
rection,  Judgment,   Miracles,  of  the  Church, 
of   Sacraments   and   what   not.     In   studying 
them  one  cannot  but  feel  how  far  greater  a 
chance  of  permanence  and  of  religious  efficacy 
these  dogmas  would  have  possessed,  had  their 
framers    previously    made    a    proper    study 
of  this  initial  and  covering  doctrine  of  recogni- 
tion.    For  it  is  safe  to  say  that  no  theological 
doctrine,  whatever  its  special  theme,  has  the 
element  of  permanence  unless,  in  its  substance 
and  form,  it  is  a  reflection  of  something  pre- 
viously   found  in  the  universal   mind.     For 
the  doctrine  to  find  a  man  the  man  must  first 
find  himself  there.     When  that  condition  ob- 
tains, no  ridicule  can  dislodge  it.     We  may 
take,  for  a  single  illustration,  the  doctrine  of 
Atonement.     On  this  theme  what  reams   of 


Recognitions.  229 

arid  utterance,  of  interest  to  no  mortal, 
lie  unread  on  the  back  shelves  of  libraries  ! 
And  the  modern  preacher,  discovering  in 
himself  no  response  to  these  dryasdust  de- 
liverances, is  apt  to  eschew  the  subject  in 
favour  of  something  he  deems  closer  to  the 
actualities  of  the  time.  And,  indeed,  until  he 
has  something  more  real  to  offer  than  what  at 
times  has  passed  for  Christian  doctrine  on  this 
theme,  he  were  better  silent.  But  when, 
out  of  his  own  sin  and  sorrow  and 
life  burden,  he  comes  to  it,  and  the  Cross 
behind  it,  for  what  it  has  to  say  to  his 
own  soul ;  when  he  recognises  himself,  his 
being,  his  character,  his  destiny  inextricably 
and  vitally  mingled  in  this  Eternal  Sacrifice, 
will  his  utterance  then  be  the  chaff  of  unreality  ? 
Never.  What  has  found  him  will  find  his 
fellow.  There  will  be  more  recognitions.  The 
old  story  will  be  repeated.  "  In  this  sign 
thou  wilt  conquer." 

There  are  manifold  further  applications 
of  our  theme  which  we  pass  over  in  order 
to  bring  in  a  word  on  an  aspect  of  the  matter 
vital  to  us  all — its  outlook  on  a  future  life. 
Our  doctrine  of  recognition  bears  on  this 
problem  in  more  ways  than  one.  It  has  some- 
thing to  say  on  the  future  life  as  a  possibility 
for  us,  and  also  as  to  the  kind  of  life  it  may 
be  expected  to  be.  In  the  first  place,  the  chance 
for  us  of  a   continuity  of  existence  beyond 


230  The  Eternal  Religion. 

death  is,  as  everybody  sees,  intimately  bound 
up  with  the  question  of  persistence  and  identity 
amid  organic  change.  Men  put  questions  of 
this  kind  :  "  If  you  speak  of  surviving,  what 
of  you  is  to  survive  ?  Yourself  as  child, 
as  youth,  or  as  old  man  ?  What  is  the  good," 
they  say,  "  of  this  talk  of  after-death  survival 
when  the  earlier  '  you  '  of  the  child  or  the 
youth  has  not  even  survived  the  processes  of 
life  ?  As  you  are,  here  in  this  world,  you  are 
already  three-parts  dead.  You  represent  even 
now  the  eternal  flux  of  things,  of  which  the 
end  will  be  the  crowning  illustration."  But 
surely  the  argument  here  contains  its  own 
refutation.  Its  very  terms  give  us  the  answer. 
For  we  should  not  know  of  the  "  eternal  flux," 
apart  from  the  fixed  points,  outside  the  move- 
ment, which  enable  us  to  judge  it.  And  the 
fixed  point  here  is  the  "  T,"  which  we  always 
recognise  as  our  very  selves,  which  survives 
all  the  changes,  and  which  indeed  registers 
them.  Are  we  told  that  the  child  dies  into 
the  youth  and  the  youth  into  the  man  ? 
The  truth  here  is  rather  that  the  child  lives 
in  the  youth  and  in  the  man.  The  growing 
personality  is  made  up  of  them  all,  recognises 
them  all,  and  is  the  uniting  point  of  all.  What^ 
then,  is  there  in  the  whole  analogy  of  things 
to  hinder  us  from  the  acceptance  of  religion's 
final  affirmation,  that  as  the  physical  material 
at  death  undergoes,  not  destruction,  but^meta- 


Recognitions.  231 

morphosis,  so  the  inner  unity  of  which  the  body 
has  been  at  once  the  symbol  and  the  servant 
will,  at  the  great  moment,  carry  itself  forward 
into  a  new  expression  and  surrounding  ? 

A  new  expression  and  surrounding  !  And 
yet  not  one  that  is  foreign  or  unfriendly. 
The  best  assurance  of  what  happens  at  birth 
into  that  higher  world  is  what  happens  at 
birth  into  our  own.  Nothing  surely,  in  this 
regard,  is  more  reassuring  than  the  ways  of 
children  as  they  come  to  us  on  this  planet. 
They  are  entirely  at  home  from  the  beginning. 
They  recognise  the  world  and  its  people  as 
familiar.  It  is  as  if  they  had  been  here  before. 
And  in  that  further  birth  that  awaits  us  there 
will  surely  be  no  reversal  of  the  kindly  law. 
It  is  not  only  a  want  of  faith,  but  a  false 
induction  from  the  system  of  things  as  we 
know  it,  that  expresses  itself  in  such  lines  as 
these  : 

Alone  !  to  land  alone  upon  that  shore  ! 
To  begin  alone  to  live  for  evermore ; 

To  have  no  one  to  teach 

The  manners  or  the  speech 
Of  that  new  Hfe,  or  put  us  at  our  ease : 
Oh  !  that  we  might  die  in  pairs  or  companies  ! 

We  need  cherish  no  such  fears.  Fatherhood, 
motherhood,  brotherhood  are  no  monopoly  of 
this  world  or  this  life.  All  that  they  contain, 
all  the  sweetness  of  home  and  the  inmost 


232  The  Eteenal  Religion. 

rapture  of  love,  forming  part  as  they  do  of 
the  riches  of  that  Divine  Nature  out  of  which 
our  humanity  has  come,  will  be  there  to  meet  us 
on  the  farther  shore.  That  will  be  the  greatest 
and  gladdest  of  our  Recognitions. 


XXVI. 

The  Thought  Behind. 

"  Thought-reading  "  is  one  of  the  many 
forms  of  dabbling  with  the  mysterious  which 
modern  society  takes  up,  partly  as  an  amuse- 
ment and  partly  as  a  cult.  Mr.  Stuart 
Cumberland's  drawing-room  exhibitions 
belonged  to  that  half-laughing,  half-serious 
coquetting  with  the  occult  which  is  one  of 
the  features  of  the  time.  We  shall  probably 
have  a  good  deal  more  of  this  in  the  near 
future.  It  will  not  be  surprising  if  Europe 
and  America  present  by-and-by  the  character- 
istics which  Lucian  describes  with  so  much 
vivacity  of  the  later  days  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  when  the  world  was  overrun  with 
necromancers,  magicians,  prophets,  and 
exploiters  of  every  form  of  dark  art.  Not 
that  the  tendencies  of  the  age  in  this  direction 
are  merely  frivolous.  Far  otherwise.  A  good 
deal  of  what  is  now  going  on  in  the  Western 
mind  is  an  awakening  to  the  sense  of  a  lost 
intellectual  inheritance.  Hegel's  belief  that 
second       sight     was     "  a     product      of      an 

233  16 


234  The  Eternal  Religion. 

earlier  day  and  an  earlier  intellectual  con- 
dition than  ours,"  is  very  suggestive 
on  this  point.  We  have  developed  along 
certain  lines  to  the  neglect  of  others, 
and  have  paid  the  penalty.  Our  civilisation 
has  not  been  all  gain.  Watchmaking  has 
robbed  us  of  the  art  of  teUing  the  time  by  the 
sun.  Road-making  has  put  us  beneath  the 
savage  in  tracking  our  way  through  the  forest. 
And  when  the  Zulu  "  opens  the  gates  of 
distance,"  and  obtains  knowledge  of  far-off 
events  by  a  wireless  telegraphy  of  his  own, 
he  hints  at  mental  endowments  which  higher 
races  have  lost  and  must  regain.  It  will 
be  by  developments  along  this  side  of  the 
mind  that  the  next  great  human  advance 
will  not  improbably  be  made. 

Meanwhile,  and  with  the  workaday  faculties 
we  already  possess,  there  is  wonderful  thought- 
jeading  for  every  mother's  son  of  us  if  only 
we  will  give  ourselves  to  it.  Our  world  is, 
more  than  anything  else,  a  magnificent  treasury 
of  thoughts.  This  treasury  is  open  to  all, 
and  the  laws  of  enjoying  it  are  the  same 
for  all.  It  is  dumbfoimding  to  pessimism, 
and  yet  true,  that  in  what  most  concerns 
a  mortal's  sheer  happiness  and  well-being 
the  conditions  are,  for  king  and  cotter,  pre- 
cisely the  same.  Our  main  joy  is  in  thought- 
reading,  and  in  this,  for  us,  central  business, 
rank  or  wealth  do  not  count. 


The  Thought  Behind.  235 

We  begin  early  as  thought-readers.  The 
child,  almost  as  soon  as  it  is  bom,  commences 
the  process.  It  reads  the  face  and  knows 
at  once  whether  the  expression  on  it  means 
kindness  or  the  reverse.  Indeed,  if  we  want 
to  begin  at  the  beginning  we  must  go  lower 
down  than  the  children.  The  dogs  read  our 
thoughts.  They  are  charming  pictures  which 
Darwin  gives  us,  in  his  "  Expression  of  the 
Emotions,"  of  the  way  in  which  his  four- 
footed  companions  studied  his  face  and  learned 
there  both  his  mood  and  his  intentions. 
Our  dumb  friends  partake,  in  a  measure 
greater  than  we  have  imagined,  of  God's  great 
feast  of  the  inner  life.  One  of  the  marvels 
of  this  language  of  expression  is  that  both 
the  language  itself  and  the  interpretation  of 
it  are  practically  the  same  throughout  the 
whole  human  family.  Go  to  China  or  India, 
or  the  islands  of  the  Pacific,  or  among  the 
aborigines  of  Australia,  and  the  story  of  the 
soul's  awe,  or  terror,  or  delight,  or  anger  will 
be  signalled  on  the  features  and  the  body  by 
identically  the  same  signs.  This  is  the 
primordial  language,  read  of  all  men,  created 
before  grammar  was,  or  words,  a  language 
wrought  deep  into  the  physical  frame  by 
the  mystic  processes  of  the  growing  soul. 

But  the  study  of  expression,  as  we  see  it  in 
human  faces,  is  only  the  beginning  of  our 
thought-reading.      As    the    mind    opens,    it 


236  The  Eternal  Religion. 

becomes  aware  of  other  thoughts  lying  around 
it,  vast  beyond  expression,  embedded  in 
symbol  and  hieroglyph,  whose  meaning  yields 
only  to  patience  and  humility.  For  the 
meanings  are  so  deeply  infolded.  There  are 
surface  interpretations,  with  which  the  frivolous 
may  content  themselves,  but  which  serve 
really  as  only  veils  and  wrappings  of  a  deeper 
sense.  In  other  words,  the  world  we  live  in  is 
a  thought-world,  and  our  business  is  to 
decipher  it.  We  are  scarcely  aware  to  what 
extent  this  is  so.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
street  we  walk  down,  the  houses  which  bound 
it  on  either  side,  are  really  thoughts.  The 
length  of  that  street  and  its  breadth  ;  the  size, 
shape,  fittings  and  furniture  of  every  building 
in  it  existed  once  as  ideas  in  a  human  brain. 
These  things  will  abide  there,  for  the  time 
they  last,  as  embodiments  in  brick,  stone,  wood, 
of  what  once  went  on  in  a  mind. 

But  when  we  have  left  the  city  and  reached 
the  country  ;  when  we  look,  not  upon  houses, 
but  upon  land,  sea  or  sky  ;  when  our  surround- 
ings are  simply  light,  colour  and  form — what 
are  we  now  in  contact  with  ?  Do  we  listen 
here  simply  to  the  echoes  of  our  own  footsteps^? 
Is  our  own  mind,  which  peers  curiously  on 
this  side  of  these  appearances,  the  only  one 
engaged  upon  them  ?  Or  are  the  appearances 
in  their  turn,  like  the  houses  we  just  left,  the 
embodied  thoughts  of  a  thinker  ?     One  of  the 


The  Thought  Behind.  237 

latest  exponents  of  the  evolutionary  philosophy 
gives  the  following  as  the  answer  of  science  : 
"  All  is  quivering  with  energy.  .  .  .  Matter 
is  indestructible,  motion  is  continuous,  and 
beneath  both  these  fundamental  truths  lies 
the  fundamental  truth  that  force  is  persistent. 
All  the  myriad  phenomena  of  the  universe 
.  .  .  are  manifestations  of  a  single  ani- 
mating principle  that  is  both  infinite  and 
eternal.'*  Eloquent  words,  and  true,  but 
not — as  they  stand — enough,  surely,  for  the 
human  soul.  The  writer  here  is  afraid  to 
apply  Personahty  to  his  *'  single  animating 
principle,"  because,  forsooth,  that  is  an- 
thropomorphism !  It  is  to  the  last  degree 
singular  that  brilliant  and  conscientious 
thinkers  of  our  time  should  have  permitted 
themselves  to  be  frightened  by  a  word.  If  it 
comes  to  that,  we  are  all  of  us,  atheists  as  well 
as  Christians,  anthropomorphic,  and  can  be 
no  other  if  we  try.  When  the  materialist 
speaks  of  force  or  of  cause  in  his  account  of 
the  universe  he  is  just  as  much  applying  ideas 
derived  from  human  experience  as  when 
believers  speak  of  the  mind  and  heart  of 
God.  And  yet  this  bugbear  word  has 
actually,  for  multitudes  of  able  men,  emptied 
the  spiritual  atmosphere  of  all  its  summer 
warmth  and  light.  It  has  reduced  them 
to  a  theory  of  which  Goethe  said :  "It 
appeared   to   me  so  grey,  so  Cimmerian  and 


238  The  Eternal  Religion. 

so  dead  that  we  shuddered  at  it  as  at  a 
ghost." 

But  the  world  is  coming  back  to  sanity  in 
in  this  matter.  It  is  beginning  to  believe 
in  the  validity  of  its  best  instincts.  It  refuses, 
as  a  modern  writer  has  it,  "  to  admit  that  the 
universe  is  a  farrago  of  nonsense."  Nor  will 
it  accept  the  attitude  which  Emerson  satirised  : 
"  Ah !  says  my  languid  Oxford  gentleman, 
nothing  new  and  nothing  true,  and  no  matter." 
The  visible  world,  we  find,  is  full  of  intellect. 
Both  in  its  form  and  its  arrangement  it  is 
crammed  with  mathematics  and  chemistry 
and  logic.  Its  combinations  are  alive  with 
artistry,  impregnate  with  the  sense  of  the 
beautiful.  Its  sounds  are  embedded  in  laws 
which,  as  we  understand  and  apply  them, 
yield  the  most  exquisite  music  ;  plainest  of 
hints  that  at  their  back  stands  a  Musician- 
But  mathematics,  and  chemistry,  and  logic, 
and  art  and  music  are  Thoughts.  The  fact 
that  the  world's  phenomena  are  reducible  to 
common  mental  expressions  shows  that  they  all 
lie  on  a  common  mental  basis.  The  possibility 
of  our  arriving,  as  individuals,  at  a  universal 
truth  supposes  a  Universal  Mind  in  which  that 
truth  inheres.  The  student  of  science  is  thus, 
whether  he  know  it  or  not,  a  thought-reader. 
He  is  reading  God's  thoughts  after  Him. 

But  there  are  thoughts  and  thoughts.  We 
utter  one  order  of  them  to  bare  acquaintances. 


The  Thought  Behind.  239 

another  to  intimates.  And  that  is  a  rule 
which  holds  in  all  spheres.  Our  innermost 
yields  itself  only  to  kindred  spirits  and  to  the 
solicitations  of  love.  A  man  going  into 
St.  Mark's,  Venice,  shall  find  it  discoursing 
to  him  according  to  his  degree  of  initiation. 
If  he  be  entirely  uneducated  it  may  impress 
him  simply  as  a  glowing  mass  of  form  and 
colour.  Certainly  it  says  that  to  all  who 
come.  To  the  artist  it  has  far  more  to  com- 
municate. He  reads  miles  deeper  into  its 
thought.  But  even  he  may  miss  its  central 
intention.  It  is  to  the  sympathetic  believer, 
and  to  him  alone,  that  it  tells  its  whole  secret. 
It  is  he  who  finds  in  these  "  Stones  of  Venice," 
as  their  uttermost  meaning,  the  Christian 
Gospel. 

In  like  manner  it  is  with  that  vaster  fane 
whose  dome  is  the  starry  firmament,  and 
whose  measurements  are  infinity  and  eternity. 
There  are  those,  the  careless  and  unthinking, 
to  whom  the  universe  discloses  only  its 
commoner  and  surface  meanings.  And  there 
are,  if  we  may  so  say,  Grod's  intimates,  to 
whom  He  whispers  His  finer  thoughts.  It  is 
in  man,  the  microcosm,  in  whom  all  the 
universe  meets,  that  the  Divine  ideas  chiefly 
unfold  themselves,  and  that  in  proportion  as 
his  receiving  surface  is  purified  and  expanded. 
Emerson  has  put  this  in  his  own  way  in  the 
statement   that   "  the   foundation   of   culture 


240  The  Eternal  Religion. 

as  of  character  is  at  last  the  moral  sentiment. 
If  we  live  truly  we  shall  see  truly."  An  old 
English  mystic  has  expressed  it  quaintly, 
yet  more  nearly  :  "  As  long  as  we  be  meddling 
with  any  part  of  sin  we  shall  never  see  clearly 
the  blissful  cheer  of  our  Lord."  It  is  here, 
indeed,  that  we  have  the  secret  of  the  moral 
authority  of  Jesus.  His  absolute  purity  was 
the  light  in  which  He  read  the  heart  of  God. 
He  saw  it  as  an  open  book.  He  spoke  with 
the  certitude  of  conscious  oneness  with  the 
Divine.  And  His  way  is  for  all  the  ages  and 
all  the  worlds  the  only  way  of  intimately 
knowing  God.  By  mathematics  and  chemistry 
and  art  we  may  scrape  some  acquaintance. 
It  is  only  through  love  and  purity  and 
humility  and  sacrifice  that  we  learn  the  inner 
secret. 

But  if  Christianity  is  in  this  way  a  thought- 
reading  of  God,  it  is  not  less,  let  us  remember, 
a  thought-reading  of  man.  It  is  the  one 
religion  which  meddles  persistently  with  the 
innermost  life.  The  motto  of  pagan  humanity 
was,  "  intus  ut  lihet,  for  is  ut  moris  est :  in 
private  do  as  you  like,  in  public  follow  the 
fashion."  To  turn  all  this  upside  down,  and 
to  invade  a  man's  privacy  with  an  over- 
powering sense  of  a  Divine  holy  presence, 
was  indeed  to  bring  in  a  new  religion.  The 
present  writer,  in  a  chance  conversation  with 
a  traveller  on  the  Continent,  Was  surprised  to 


The  Thought  Behind.  241 

find  this  urged  as  a  conclusive  argument 
against  Christianity  as  a  practical  scheme. 
"  Why,"  said  he,  and  he  was  a  man  of  culture, 
"  what  can  be  said  for  a  religion  which  puts 
an  embargo  on  your  very  thoughts  !  "  And 
he  did  not  seem  persuaded  by  our  contention 
that  if  religion  was  to  be  of  any  moral  use  to 
us  it  was  precisely  in  this  thought-region  that 
it  must  begin  its  work. 

What  gives  thought-reading  its  undying 
interest  is  thiat  it  brings  us  in  contact  with 
persons.  Materialism  would  rid  the  unseen 
universe  of  the  personal.  It  replaces  God  with 
a  "principle  of  unity."  The  soul's  sure 
instinct  rejects  all  this.  It  knows  that  the 
be-all  and  end-all  of  existence  is  union  with 
Holiness  and  Love.  And  as  we  more  and 
more  clearly  see  God  in  His  world  men  will 
catch  the  reflection  of  Him  in  ourselves. 
The  ineffable  vision  will  leave  its  shining 
trace.  That  becomes  true  which  was  said 
half-jokingly,  half-admiringly,  by  Sydney 
Smith  of  a  contemporary  :  "  The  Ten  Com- 
mandments are  written  upon  his  countenance," 
We  read  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  who  covered 
the  France  of  the  seventeenth  century  with 
charitable  institutions,  that  his  originally 
ugly  features  were  transformed  by  the  sublime 
goodness  which  beamed  through  them.  In 
what  terms  of  physiology  can  we  state  that 
fact  ?     It    requires     another    ^science     than 


242  The  Eternal  Religion. 

physiology.  This  man  had  been  in  the  highest 
society  and  caught  its  manner.  He  was  a 
thought-reader  of  the  inner  mysteries.  And 
the^word  they  spelled  out  to  him  was  the 
Eternal  Love. 


XXVII. 
Conscience. 

Of  the  soul's  working  forces,  none  bulks 
before  the  general  mind  more  largely  than 
conscience.  It  is  generally  looked  upon  as 
our  chief  moral  driving  power,  as  a  kind  of 
interior  Divine  law-giver.  When,  however, 
we  come  more  narrowly  to  examine  conscience, 
both  in  its  operation  on  ourselves,  and  outside, 
over  the  whole  sphere  of  world-history,  we 
become  conscious  of  some  strange  complexities. 
Side  by  side  with  its  normal  action  we  discern 
a  puzzling  kind  of  by-play.  Conscience,  we 
discover,  has  not  only  a  moral,  but  sometimes 
a  non-moral,  even  an  immoral  activity.  We 
are  beginning  now  to  understand  the  meaning 
of  this,  but  we  have  not  yet  emerged  from  the 
confusions  in  which  earlier  misconceptions 
involved  the  subject.  Prodigious  blunders 
in  ethics  and  theology  have  been  made  from 
regarding  conscience  as  something  absolute 
in  man,  instead  of  considering  it,  like  every- 
thing else  in  him,  as  a  growth.  What  we  are 
now  learning  is  that  the  world-conscience  has 

243 


244  The  Eteenal  Religion. 

had  its  boyhood,  when,  boy-like,  it  played 
tricks  which  the  grown-up  conscience  of  our 
later  days  has  to  allow  for  and  to  set  right. 
This  relation  of  past  and  present  is,  as  we 
shall  see,  not  the  only  region  in  which  we 
observe  the  by-play  of  conscience,  but  we  may 
begin  with  it  as  perhaps  the  most  important. 

At  no  time  has  man's  ethical  guide  played 
stranger  antics  with  him  than  when  it  has 
allied  itself  with  the  notion  that  the  moral 
ideas  of  an  earlier  time  could  be  taken  as 
the  standard  for  to-day.  The  great  example 
of  this  is  in  the  early  world-conscience  expressed 
in  the  Old  Testament,  and  in  the  influence 
which  has  been  accorded  to  it  over  later  ethics. 
Nowhere  has  the  misconception  of  the  idea 
of  inspiration  wrought  more  mischief  both  to 
faith  and  practice.  The  notion  that  the 
early  Hebrew  records  exhibited  a  Divine, 
and  therefore  absolute  standard  of  conduct, 
made  Augustine  the  advocate  of  religious 
persecution,  formed  a  chief  prop  of  American 
slavery,  furnished  Joseph  Smith  with  a  sanction 
for  polygamy  at  Nauvoo,  and,  during  the  late 
Armenian  massacres,  gave  point  to  the  sneer 
against  those  Christians  who  denounced  the 
Sultan  as  an  assassin,  while  regarding  Joshua, 
red  with  the  pitiless  slaughter  of  the  Canaanites, 
as  a  special  commissioner  of  heaven. 

Another  of  the  vagaries  of  the  cruder 
conscience,  from  the  effects  of  which  we  are 


Conscience.  245 


still  suffering,  appears  in  its  connection  with 
belief.  Relating  itself  to  the  view  that  certain 
dogmas  were  necessary  to  the  religious  life  it 
has,  in  their  interest,  sanctioned  and  vehem- 
ently supported  what  we  now  regard  as  sheer 
immoralities.  Pious  frauds,  in  which  men 
"  lie  for  conscience  sake,"  have  produced 
entanglements  in  Christianity  from  which 
we  have  not  yet  shaken  ourselves  clear. 
The  early  literature  of  our  faith  is  full  of 
forgeries,  of  pseudo-gospels  bidding  for  a 
hearing  by  the  borrowing  of  Apostolic  names 
as  their  authors,  of  invented  miracles,  of 
history  manufactured  to  chime  with  prophecy. 
If  the  religious  propagandists  who  did  this  in 
that  early  time  had  possessed  the  modern 
conscience  in  these  matters  we  should  have 
been  saved  a  world  of  trouble.  But  they  did 
not.  And  it  is  curious  how  this  cruder  religious 
conscience  has  survived.  Protestantism  was 
distinctly  a  move  towards  theological  veracity, 
but  the  progress  has  been  slow  and  the  goal 
is  not  yet  reached.  The  older  Protestantism 
could  invent  as  well  as  the  old  Catholicism. 
In  Mary's  reign  a  wall  spoke  at  Aldgate 
against  the  Mass.  It  was  discovered  after- 
wards that  a  girl  concealed  behind  the  plaster 
had  worked  the  oracle.  And  in  many  Pro- 
testant pulpits  to-day  statements  are  made 
by  excellent  men  which  it  would  be  impossible 
for     them     to     utter     were     it     not     that 


246  The  Eternal  Religion. 

their   "  religious   conscience "   prevents   them 
from  candidly  examining  the  facts. 

It  is  time,  perhaps,  now  to  come  to  explana- 
tions, for  what  has  been  said  leads  to  some 
vital  questions.  What  then  is  conscience ; 
have  we  misnamed  it  when  we  call  it  a  Divine 
inward  monitor  and  judge  ;  is  there  then, 
after  all,  no  infallible  guide  for  our  life  ? 
The  modern  answer  on  these  points  represents 
a  broader  outlook  than  the  older  one  ;  yet, 
properly  considered,  it  is  not  one  whit  less 
spiritual  or  rehgious.  Conscience  in  this  view 
is  the  correspondence  of  our  individual  feeling 
with  a  common  outside  standard.  But  this 
standard  is  continually  rising  and  its  upward 
progress  is  nothing  less  than  the  growing 
revelation  of  God  in  and  to  our  race.  The 
Divine  inspiration  was  assuredly  in  the  pat- 
riarchs, though  their  manner  of  life  if  practised 
here  would  have  consigned  them  to  a  gaol 
within  a  week.  The  explanation  is  that 
while  the  force  working  in  them  was  from 
above,  its  uplift  could,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
carry  them  only  as  far  as  it  was  in  their 
generation  to  go.  There  is  an  immutable 
standard  of  right  and  wrong,  but  it  was  not 
plumped  into  the  world  all  at  once.  It|is 
dawning^' upon  us  bit  by  bit  in  the  ceaseless 
development  of  the  human  spirit.  Conscience 
is  the  Divine  in  us,  but  like  another  incar- 
nation, it    was    born    a    babe    and  comes  to 


Conscience.  247 


itself  by  degrees,  "  increasing  in  wisdom  and 
stature," 

We  may  now  follow  our  subject  into  one 
or  two  separate  by-paths.     It  tempts  us,  for 
instance,   to  ask  whether  conscience  is  pre- 
cisely the  same  thing  in  men  as  in  women. 
The  general  verdict  amongst  those  who  profess 
to  know  is  to  the  contrary.     Woman's  nature, 
according  to  them,  echoes  more  clearly  than 
that  of  man  the  cry  of  Faust,   "  Gefilhl  ist 
alles"     La  Bruyere  has  an  uncompromising 
verdict  on  the  point :   "  Za  plupart  des  femmes 
n'ont  guere  des  principes  :    elles  se  conduisent 
par  le  cceur,  et  dependent  pour  leurs  moeurs  de 
ceux    qu'elles    aiment.^^     We    speak    of    the 
growing  liberty  of  opinion,  but  we  doubt  very 
much  whether  the  witty  Frenchman  would 
have  dared  to  write  this  had  he  lived  in  the 
twentieth  century  instead  of  the  seventeenth. 
Yet  a  countryman  of  his  of  our  own  time  gives 
an  illustration  of  a  certain  tjrpe  of  the  feminine 
conscience,  which,  in  its  way,  is  quite  as  curious 
as   the   deliverance   of   La   Bruyere.     In   his 
"  Journeys  through  France  "  M.  Taine  quotes 
a  shopkeeper  in  a  French  provincial  town  who 
said  to  him  of  the  women  there  :    "  Not  one 
of£them    would    stay    away   from    Mass    on 
Sunday ;     but    they    are    light-fingered    folk. 
We  have  to  keep   our  eye   on  them.     They 
would  not  steal  money,  but  anything  in  the 
shop    is    fair    game."     It    would    be    unsafe, 


248  The  Eternal  Religion. 

however,  to  found  on  this  a  homily  on  the 
feminine  moral  sense.  It  would  probably  be 
retorted  that  the  dijBference  between  the  men 
and  the  women  of  this  place  and  class  would 
be  simply  in  the  fact  that  the  former  did  "  stay 
away  from  Mass  on  Sunday."  But  we  will 
hasten  off  this  dangerous  ground. 

Our  modern  civiHsation  offers  us  some 
strange  and  unprepossessing  illustrations  of 
the  by-play  of  conscience.  It  is,  of  course, 
not  exclusively  a  feature  of  our  time,  but  one 
which  is,  nevertheless,  most  unpleasantly 
prominent  in  it,  that  some  of  the  most  loath- 
some of  livelihoods  are  to-day  made  out 
of  the  exploitation  of  conscience.  The  tramp, 
the  impostor,  the  begging-letter  writer  live 
by  a  conscience — not  their  own.  Possessing 
not  a  gleam  of  noble  sentiment  in  themselves, 
they  can  calculate  to  a  nicety  the  working 
of  it  in  their  better-minded  fellow-creatures. 
The  charitable  instincts,  the  sense  of  duty 
to  others,  of  the  clergyman,  the  philanthropist, 
and  the  religious  community  generally  are 
accurately  weighed  and  delicately  handled. 
Truly  a  curious  business !  But  a  deeper 
level  is  reached  when  the  vein  worked  for 
profit  is  not  a  man's  good,  but  his  evil  con- 
science. In  aU  the  annals  of  the  human 
tragedy  we  come  upon  nothing  so  purely 
infernal  as  when  we  see  men  or  women, 
themselves  lost  to  the  sense  of  virtue,  enticing 


Conscience.  249 


some  weak  or  unsuspecting  victim  to  his  fall, 
that  then  they  may  use  the  misery  of  his 
awakened  conscience  as  a  source  of  income. 
In  our  strange  world  there  are,  however, 
compensations  in  the  most  unexpected  quarters, 
and  it  is  probable  that  this  latest  outcrop  of  a 
corrupt  civilisation  serves,  in  its  way,  as  a 
breakwater  of  virtue.  The  safeguard  between 
many  a  man  and  vice  is  the  dread  that,  as  a 
consequence  of  his  sin,  his  own  guilty 
conscience  may  be  exploited  by  those  who 
have  no  conscience  at  all.  Of  this  side  of 
the  topic  one  might  indeed,  adduce  any 
number  of  illustrations. 

The  by-play  of  conscience,  its  non-moral 
activity,  is  shown  for  instance  in  our  state 
of  mind  towards  people  we  have  wronged. 
If  the  inner  tumult  occasioned  by  the  act 
does  not  issue  in  a  determination  to  repair 
the  evil,  it  produces  the  curious  opposite 
result  of  a  settled  disHke  of  our  victim.  He 
has  somehow  put  us  in  the  wrong,  and  we 
bear  a  grudge  against  him  for  it.  A  long 
chapter  might  also  be  written  on  the  strange 
vocabulary  of  excuse  which  the  by-play 
of  conscience  has  created,  and  by  which  men, 
when  they  go  wrong,  contrive  somehow  to 
compound  with  their  better  self.  The  study 
of  the  subject  shows  that  conscience  requires 
not  only  to  be  listened  to,  but  to  be  trained. 
It  needs  a  teacher  and  an  ally,    We  are  here 

17 


250  The  Eternal  Religion. 

only  on  safe  ground  when  we  realise,  as 
Quaker  Barclay  puts  it  in  his  Apology,  "  that 
Christians  are  to  be  led  inwardly  and  immedi- 
ately by  the  Spirit  of  God,  even  in  the  same 
manner,  though  it  befall  not  many  to  be  led 
in  the  same  measure,  as  the  saints  were 
of  old."       . 


XXVIII. 
Idle  Piety. 

It  was  a  saying  of  Dean  Church,  which  all 
schools  of  us  may  well  note,  that  "  the  call 
to  be  religious  is  not  stronger  than  the  call 
to  see  of  what  sort  our  rehgion  is."  And  the 
label  which  properly  describes  our  "  sort " 
of  rehgion  will,  let  us  remember,  by  no  means 
necessarily  be  a  denominational  one.  The 
dividing  Hnes  which  mark  the  difference 
between  a  good  religion  and  a  bad  one  are 
not  at  all  parallel  with  oiir  sectarianisms. 
Taine  was  not  thinking  of  this  or  that  Church 
when  he  spoke  of  reHgion  as  "  differing  with 
different  minds,  some  interpreting  it  well, 
and  on  it  feeding  generous  feehngs,  exalted 
hopes,  great  thoughts ;  others  falsifying  it 
and  making  of  it  an  affair  of  kneelings,  pro- 
cessions, bows,  ridiculous  practices."  All  the 
Churches  have  bred  great  souls,  and  all  of 
them,  though  some  more  than  others,  have 
seen  interpretations  of  religion  that  have  been 
a  hindrance  rather  than  a  help  to  true  living. 
Moreover,  we  find,  cHnging  to  all  the  Churches 

251 


252  The  Eternal  Religion. 

in  greater  or  less  degree,  expressions  of  religion 
that  arose  out  of  an  inferior  development,  out 
of  a  more  limited  outlook  than  our  own. 
It  is  time  now  that  we  recognised  these  for 
what  they  are  worth.  They  may  be  designated 
as  a  species  of  "  idle  piety.' ' 

Here  let  us  not  be  misunderstood.  We  need 
to  use  our  term  "  idle  *'  warily.  Religion 
in  its  highest  form  holds,  and  will  always  hold 
a  large  element  of  passivity.  One  of  its 
fimctions  is  that  of  a  refuge  from  the  rush 
of  the  external  life.  "  How  few  are  the 
moments,"  says  a  modem  writer,  "  in  which 
it  seems  to  us  that  we  have  really  lived,  and 
not  been  merely  busied  with  preparations 
for  living ! "  It  is  within  rehgion's  most 
intimate  circle  that  we  realise  those  moments. 
Religion,  on  one  side  of  it  at  least,  is  an  inward- 
ness, a  sacred  hush,  a  sahhatismos.  It  is  the 
soul  resting  in  itself  and  in  the  thought  of  its 
Divine  ally — a  musing,  a  contemplation,  a 
vision  of  the  unseen,  a  feeding  upon  the 
hidden  manna. 

Also,  the  seeming  passivities  which  enter 
so  much  into  the  religious  life  are  often  really 
a  form  of  the  most  potent  activity.  We 
have  not  yet  penetrated  the  law  of  this  inner 
working,  but  the  fact  is  there,  and  un- 
questionable* When  Christ  hung  on  the  Cross 
He  was  doing  nothing  but  to  hang  thereg 
But   in   that    quiet   of   mere    suffering   were 


Idle  Piety.  253 


being  elaborated  forces,  the  sweep  and  range 
of  which  no  imagination  can  properly  grasp. 
When  a  great  man,  away  from  the  hurly  burly, 
sits  brooding  his  problem,  he  may  to  the 
outsider  seem  an  idle  person.  All  the  time, 
in  his  interior,  is  elaborating  a  piece  of  work, 
in  the  shape  of  a  new  resolve,  or  in  the  emerg- 
ence there  of  a  new  truth  of  life,  which  in  its 
effect  on  the  race  shall  be  more  potent  than 
the  roar  of  a  miQion  looms.  We  need  to  know 
our  way  well  in  this  region  ere  we  fling  our 
word  of  reproach. 

Not  the  less  evident  is  it  that  religion  to-day, 
and  all  the  vast  interests  bound  up  in  it,  are 
suffering  from  forms  of  idleness  that  need  to 
be  exposed  and  exorcised.  Ecclesiasticism 
by  its  notions,  its  organisations  of  living  and 
worshipping,  by  even  its  activities,  has  been 
responsible  for  an  enormous  waste  of  the 
world's  time.  It  has  used  human  brains 
and  bodies  that  might  have  been  so  well 
employed  otherwise,  in  pursuits  that  are 
futile  and  that  lead  to  nothing.  When 
Casaubon,  on  his  first  visit  to  Paris,  was  shown 
over  the  great  hall  of  the  Sorbonne,  he  was 
told  by  his  guide,  "This  is  where  the  theo- 
logians have  disputed  for  five  hundred  years." 
"  Indeed,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  pray  what 
have  they  settled  ?  "  It  is  not,  however, 
so  much  in  the  direction  of  opinion — though 
any  one  who  has  attempted  to  wade  through 


254  The  Eternal  Religion. 

the  morass  of  mediaeval  theology  finds 
Erasmus's  description  of  it  not  too  strong — 
that  one  realises  most  keenly  the  unprofitable- 
ness of  much  ecclesiasticism-  In  his  thinking, 
man  has  had  to  flounder  through  innumerable 
blimders  on  his  way  to  a  true  method  of 
research.  He  has  had,  so  stupid  is  he,  to 
beat  his  head  against  the  wall,  to  discover 
there  was  no  road  that  way.  The  theology 
then,  was  not  entirely  idle- 
But  what  shall  we  say  of  the  life  ?  For 
centuries  the  Church's  ideal  of  piety  was  the 
monastery.  Everything  outside  that  was  a 
compromise,  a  "  second  best.'*  Now  it  will 
not  do  to  pass  an  undiscriminating  judgment 
on  the  monastic  life.  There  have  been  times 
when  it  stood  for  the  best  there  was  in  our 
world.  Its  note  has  been  often  the  reverse 
of  an  idle  piety.  The  early  Benedictines, 
as  in  successive  companies  they  streamed  out, 
in  the  sixth  century,  from  their  home  at 
Monte  Cassino,  were  the  chief  agents  in  the 
spread  of  Christianity,  of  learning  and  of 
civiHsation  amongst  the  rude  Western  peoples. 
One  watches  these  companies  with  a  sympathe- 
tic admiration  as,  settling  on  some  well- 
considered  spot  in  the  surrounding  waste, 
they  reared  their  simple  habitation,  cleared 
the  land,  drained,  ploughed,  sowed  and 
ultimately  turned  the  wilderness  into  a  garden. 
One    follows    them    indoors,    where,    in    the 


Idle  Piety.  255 


intervals  of  warfare  with  external  nature, 
they  pored  over  their  manuscripts,  copying, 
illuminating  and  so  preserving  for  after  ages 
the  treasures  of  antiquity. 

But  alas  !  in  these  institutions  the  fine  gold 
so   soon   became   dim.    Of   all   the  religious 
orders  it  may  be  said  that,  aiming  in    the 
beginning  at  the  highest,  they  sank  ultimately 
to  the  lowest.    Seeking  perfection  in  a  segre- 
gation   from    the    common    humanity,    they 
ended  in  losing  their  manhood.    What  a  picture 
is  that  which  Walter  de  Map  offers  of  the 
clergy  and  the  monks  in  the  twelfth  century, 
abbots  purple  as  their  wines,  monks  feeding 
and  chattering  like  parrots  in  the  refectory, 
and  his  Bishop   Gohath,  who  sums  up  the 
eoiormities  of  all,  void  of  conscience,  drunken, 
imchaste,    lost     in     sensuaUty !    The     later 
pictures  tally  with  this  early  one.    Boccaccio, 
Chaucer,  UMch  von  Hiitten,  and  a  score  of 
other  satirists,  have  let  in  the  dayhght  on 
these  nests  of  uncleanness.    And  that  Black 
Book   of   the   monasteries,   which   in  •  Henry 
VIII.'s  time  was  compiled  by  Thomas  Cromwell, 
revealed  two-thirds  of  the  monks  in  England 
as  living  in  habits  which  may  not  be  described* 
During    these    times    and    amongst    these 
people  a  fatal  thing  had  happened  to  religion. 
Amidst   this   vice   and   sloth   and   ignorance 
there  was  going  on  day  by  day  in  the  churches 
and   monasteries   the   drone   of   litanies,   the 


256  The  Eternal  Religion. 

offering  of  masses,  the  endless  repetitions 
of  psalms  and  Scriptm-es.  It  was  imagined 
that  the  Almighty  was  so  absurd  a  being 
as  to  be  placated  by  these  procedures  ;  was 
so  occupied  by  the  sniffing  of  incense  as  to 
have  no  thought  for  questions  of  character ! 
The  mischief  is  that  so  much  of  this  idea  still 
cHngs  to  us.  God  is  imagined  as  an  ecclesi- 
astical person  chiefly  interested  in  priestly 
ceremonies.  As  Sir  Walter  Besant  once  put 
it  with  exceeding  plainness,  there  are  persons 
among  us  "  who  imagine  they  can  please 
the  Lord  by  making  a  stink  in  a  church." 

A  great  awakening  is  preparing  against 
this  whole  view  of  things.  And  it  is  one 
that  will  shake  Protestantism  as  well  as 
the  priest-rehgions.  It  is  coming  inevitably 
upon  the  heels  of  a  new  and  higher  conception 
of  the  Divine  Nature.  We  think  too  well 
of  God  to  conceive  of  Him  as  occupied,  like 
some  fussy  Court  Chamberlain,  with  the 
exact  rendering  of  Church  ceremonial.  Surely 
the  Psalm  singing  and  creed  reciting  might, 
much  of  it,  in  heaven's  view,  as  well  as  earth's — 
like  the  secretary's  report  at  a  meeting — ^be 
"  taken  as  read  "  !  There  is  other  work  to  be 
done  in  His  world  that  seems  more  worth 
while !  The  CathoHc  ceremonial  has  often 
its  match  in  futility  in  the  Protestant 
emotionalism.  We  are  in  an  age  of  Con- 
ventions, in  which  the  higher  life  is  sought 


Idle  Piety.  257 


in  a  round  of  high  excitements,  as  though 
spiritual  power  and  the  inner  victory  are  won 
by  an  incessant  play  upon  the  feeHngs.  Are 
we  so  sure  that  these  are  the  right  methods  ? 
Or  may  it  not  be  that  in  surfeiting  the  feelings 
we  are  emasculating  the  will !  Would  it  not 
be  true  to  say  that  a  quiet  resolve  on  our 
own  separate  part,  to  amend  a  certain  habit, 
to  start  a  new  line  of  work,  to  get  up,  maybe, 
an  hour  earHer  in  the  morning,  would  be 
more  efficacious  upon  our  life  and  service 
than  attendance  at  fifty  reHgious  conventions  ? 
Spiritual  power  comes  not  by  external  excite- 
ments, but  by  the  inward  discipline  of  the 
soul.  It  is  by  obedience  to  the  laws  of  the 
spiritual  life,  to  the  laws  written  in  letters 
of  fire  upon  the  Cross  of  Christ,  that  a  man 
rises  to  the  highest  levels. 

A  deeper  study  at  once  of  the  nature  of 
God,  of  the  laws  of  the  soul,  and  of  the  needs 
of  the  modern  world,  are,  we  say,  bringing 
a  vast  modification  of  our  ideas  upon  the 
whole  subject  of  the  pious  life.  Under  the 
influence  of  it  our  truest  worship  will  become 
more  and  more  a  work.  We  are  reahsing 
how  much  of  our  best  self,  of  our  belief,  our 
affection,  our  sacrifice,  can  be  put  into  the 
deed  we  do,  and  how  our  truest  inwardness 
is  obtained  in  doing  that  deed.  Our  service 
of  God  will  express  itself  in  a  service  of  man. 
Our  prayer  will  be  more  and  more  a  quiet,  yet 


258  The  Eteenal  Religion. 

hard,  leaning  upon  God,  as  we  haste  in  His 
name  to  help  our  brother. 

The  best  thought  of  our  time  is  moving 
in  these  directions.  The  Church  is  becoming 
tired  of  idle  piety.  Its  leaders  are  eager  with 
their  programme  of  social  reform.  In  Germany 
Pastor  von  Bodelschwingh  has  covered  the 
land  with  his  labour  colonies.  In  America 
the  Churches  are  becoming  centres  of  institu- 
tions which  reach  the  whole  life  of  man. 
Here  in  England  the  mind  of  Christ  is  being 
reincarnated  as  the  spirit  of  social  reform. 
Man,  it  is  seen,  is  to  be  dealt  with  not  simply 
as  a  soul,  not  even  as  a  soul  and  a  body,  but 
as  part  of  a  social  organism,  that  is  itseK 
to  be  cleansed  and  saved. 

When  this  evolution  has  been  completed, 
when  we  have  carried  our  creed  into  our 
work,  and  our  work  into  our  creed,  our  worship 
will  regain  that  accent  of  reaUty  which  it  has 
lost.  Men  turn  from  the  Church  ceremonial  of 
to-day  as  a  cult  of  strange  gods.  It  is  so  much 
of  it  an  idlesse,  beneath  the  level  of  the  strenu- 
ous man.  What  wonder  that,  with  Horace, 
he  is  "  parens  deorum  cultor  et  infrequens  ?  " 
But  that  is  a  phase  which  will  not  continue. 
Christianity,  which  has  been  the  soul  of  other 
ages,  will  again  be  the  soul  of  this.  At 
present  soul  and  body  are  seeking  each  other. 
In  the  end  they  will  find  their  point  of  contact, 
and  Christ  will  again  come  to  His  own. 


XXIX. 
The  Central  Mystery, 

That  cosmic  picture  with  which  Genesis 
opens,  of  a  formless  void  with  a  Spirit  moving 
on  the  face  of  the  waters,  is,  when  we  think 
of  it,  a  marvellous  portrait  of  ourselves.  We 
look  into  this  abyss,  boimdless,  chaotic,  yet 
with  a  light  as  from  heaven  upon  its  heaving 
surface,  and  discover  that  this  is  the  thing 
we  are.  "  Know  thyself,"  says  the  ancient 
oracle,  and  we  strive  diligently  to  obey  the 
mandate,  but  we  come  from  the  quest  realising 
that  the  knowledge  is,  and  for  ever  will  be, 
beyond  us.  It  may  be  true,  as  Epicharmus 
averred,  that  "  we  live  by  logic  and  arithmetic," 
but  the  logic  and  arithmetic  are  of  another 
mind  than  ours.  It  were  better  to  say  that, 
from  our  standpoint,  life  is  an  equation  in 
which  we  never  find  the  value  of  "a?/*  An 
enigma  to  our  neighbour,  we  are  a  far  greater 
to  ourselves.  We  go  through  the  world  and 
have  never  seen  our  own  face.  We  have  had 
reflections  of  it,  more  or  less  accurate — a 
moment's  glimpse  in  a  glass.    That  also  is  the 


260  The  Eternal  Religion. 

view  we  have  had  of  our  soul.  Some  surface 
impressions,  a  foam  tossed  up  from  beneath 
that  catches  the  light,  but  not  soundings  even 
of  the  deeps  behind. 

That  this  is  not  mere  rhetoric  but  sober 
fact  will  appear  when  we  proceed  to  specify 
some  of  our  unknowns.  The  first  thing  we 
discover  is  that  our  greatest  part  is  non- 
existent. Our  career  is  a  perpetual  becoming. 
The  acorn  is  the  oak,  and  yet  bears 
no  resemblance  to  it ;  its  existence  is  a 
continuous  gathering  of  itself  from  what 
is  not  itself.  The  human  nucleus  that  at  any 
given  moment  is  known  as  "  I  "  has  an  even 
wider  and  more  compHcated  partnership. 
How  shall  we  ever  begin  to  know  ourselves 
when  the  chief  factor  in  our  personaUty 
is  its  relation  to  a  boundless  universe  that  is 
perpetually  invading  us  with  the  unforeseen 
and  the  unimagined  ?  The  event  that  shapes 
us  gives,  as  often  as  not,  no  intimation  either 
of  its  approach  or  of  its  character.  We 
accumulate  endless  knowledge  from  our  books 
and  our  instructors,  yet  of  the  Something  that 
is  at  this  moment  travelling  to  meet  us,  and 
which,  when  it  finally  crosses  our  path,  will 
change  everything,  we  are  as  ignorant  as  a 
babe.  We  seem  ever  in  the  hands  of  the 
imlooked  for.  A  chance  makes  or  mars  us. 
In  the  coup  d'etat  of  Brumaire,  1799,  when 
Napoleon    overthrew    the    Legislature,    there 


The  Central  Mystery.  261 

was  only  the  turning  of  a  hair  between 
success  and  a  fiasco.  And  at  Marengo  it  was 
the  unexpected  arrival  of  Kellermann  that 
turned  a  certain  defeat  for  Bonaparte  into  a 
victory  and  the  beginning  of  his  greater 
fortunes.  It  is  curious  to  note  how  the 
ancients  regarded  this  unknown  quantity  of 
the  external  event.  It  bore  to  them  a  sinister 
aspect.  There  seemed  ever,  to  their  minds, 
a  spice  of  malice  in  it.  In  uEschylus  this 
note  continually  recurs.  The  prosperous  man 
must  be  always  on  his  guard.  He  is  an 
overladen  ship.  Let  him  throw  some  of  his 
cargo  overboard  or  an  envious  fate  will  surely 
engulph  him. 

Over  against  this  unknown  of  our  outward 
relations  stands  the  equally  unexplored  of 
our  "  ego "  proper.  The  later  researches 
both  in  philosophy  and  biology  have  made 
it  more  than  ever  difficult  to  say  what  our 
central  "  I  "  really  is.  The  play  of  the  forces 
round  it  is  so  bewilderingly  puzzling.  We 
are  beginning  to  realise  that  a  great  part 
of  our  thinking  and  feeling  is  done  for  us 
rather  than  by  us.  A  large  part  of  us  is 
automaton.  What  emerges  on  the  surface 
of  consciousness  from  moment  to  moment  is 
sent  up  there  by  the  mysterious  toilers  in  the 
dim  under- world  of  our  sub-conscious  seK.  How 
exactly  you  will  feel  in  a  given  situation, 
you  cannot  guess.    But  that  inner  thought- 


262  The  Eternal  Religion. 

organism  of  which  you  are  a  kind  of  tenant 
or  hanger-on,  knows  all  about  it.  Were 
it  announced  to  you  to-morrow  that  yon 
were  heir  to  a  fortune  or  about  to  be  hanged, 
the  machinery  underneath  would,  without  a 
moment's  hesitation,  provide  the  exactly 
fitting  sensation. 

We  have  an  elaborated  science  of  the 
laws  of  thought,  yet  no  one  knows  how  his 
thought  comes,  or  why  it  takes  this  shape 
rather  than  that.  We  are  the  subjects  of 
all  manner  of  "  possessions."  We  are  the 
passage  ways  of  mysterious  forces  that  sweep 
through  us,  leaving  us  wondering.  A  Mozart, 
a  Beethoven,  as  he  writes  his  symphony  knows 
that  he  is  only  an  instrument.  The  eternal 
music  that  was  before  the  worlds  is  vibrating 
on  the  chords.  The  poem,  the  drama,  grows, 
we  see  not  how.  Some  men  dream  their 
creations  when  asleep,  others  dream  them 
awake.  That  story,  which  Bede  tells  of 
Caedmon,  of  how,  when  a  herdman  in  the 
service  of  Whitby  monastery,  he  heard  in  his 
sleep  a  voice  commanding  him  to  sing,  and 
how,  in  response,  he  sang  in  his  dream  the 
great  hymn  of  praise  with  which  Enghsh 
literature  begins,  is  no  soHtary  instance  in 
this  field.  What  precisely  is  it  that  is  at 
work  here  ?  What  is  the  mover  in  such 
experiences  as  Goethe,  in  his  "  Dichtung  und 
Wahrheit,'*  recoimts  of  his  grandfather,  who 


The  Central  Mystery.  263 

had  revealed  to  him  in  dreams  beforehand 
some  of  the  principal  events  of  his  life  ! 

Glancing  along  another  side  of  this  topic 
we  discover  we  are,  and  must  remain,  unknown 
to  ourselves  as  long  as  we  are  unacquainted 
with  our  possibilities  of  combination.     To  say 
we  know  carbon  from  an  examination  of  its 
properties  as  a  simple  element  would  be  very 
absurd.     The  chemist  has  to  make  acquaint- 
ance besides  with  its  behaviour  in  conjunction 
with  this  or  that  proportion  of  oxygen,   of 
hydrogen,  of  the  whole  series,  in  fact,  with 
which  it  combines.     Our  harmless  glycerine 
T^^Ji    l>y    a    simple    partnership    of    quality, 
become  the  most  terrific  of  explosives.     But 
nothing  we  meet  with  in  these  spheres  has  a 
range  of  combination,  or  a  variety  of  result, 
comparable  with   the  human   soul.     Till  we 
have  met  those  other  souls  that  are  to  en- 
counter us  on  our  way ;   till  we  have  touched 
the   mysteries    of    affinity   and   relationship ; 
known  what  it  is  to  be  absorbed,  may  be,  by 
a  stronger  spirit,  or  to  have  experienced  the 
immeasurable  give  and  take  of  some  perfectly 
answering  nature,  we  have  not  made  a  start 
to    the   knowing    of    ourselves.     It    is    along 
this   line   that   life   becomes    so    breathlessly 
fascinating  ;    its  risks  and  its  chances  alike 
so    immense.     That    story    which    Augustine 
tells  of  his  friend  Alypius,  how  being  dragged 
by   companions   in   Rome   to    a   gladiatorial 


264  The  Eternal  Religion. 

show,  he  kept  his  eyes  shut,  until  at  a  sudden 
cry  opening  them,  he  was  seized  with  a  passion 
for  blood,  is  eloquent  of  the  risks.  It  was 
thinking  of  this,  perhaps,  that  led  the  African 
bishop  elsewhere  to  exclaim  :  "0  friendship, 
worse  than  the  deepest  enmity,  unfathomable 
betrayer  of  the  soul !  Merely  because  some 
one  says,  *  Come,  let  us  do  this  or  that,'  and 
we  are  ashamed  not  to  be  shameless  !  " 

Yet  is  it  along  the  line  of  combination  that 
humanity's  greatest  hope  rests.  That  the 
soul  of  every  man,  however  savage  or  degraded, 
can  attach  itself  to  a  higher,  and  partake 
of  its  purifying  influence,  is  that  biological 
fact  of  the  spiritual  world  which  spells 
redemption.  The  story,  to  take  one  out 
of  a  himdred  such,  of  Wesley's  apostolic 
work  amongst  the  mobs  of  the  eighteenth 
century — amongst  the  weavers  of  Yorkshire, 
the  colliers  at  Kingswood,  the  miners  and 
fishers  of  Cornwall — reaching  in  these  half- 
savage  men  that  hidden  chord  in  the  human 
heart  which  vibrates  to  the  Divine,  and 
thereby  effecting  wholly  marvellous  trans- 
formations, offers  an  aspect  of  our  central 
mystery  which  should  for  ever  aboHsh 
pessimism.  It  is  enough  in  itseK,  surely, 
to  dispose  of  the  argument  of  Bichat  and 
Schopenhauer  who,  the  one  from  the  stand- 
point of  biology  and  the  other  from  that 
of  philosophy,  aver  that  the  moral  character 


The  Central  Mystery.  265 

in  man  is  fixed  and  unchangeable,  depending 
as  they  say  it  does,  on  the  organic  structure 
and  functions.  Their  purview  is  too  limited. 
They  have  forgotten  the  fact  of  spiritual 
transfusion. 

But  the  points  we  have  been  noting,  both 
hopeful  and  otherwise,  seem,  so  far,  to  lead 
one  way.  They  suggest  life  as  in  the  grip 
of  necessity.  Man  appears  as  the  helpless 
subject  of  the  mysterious  powers  that  work 
upon  him.  One  could  bring  in  masses  of 
evidence  that  apparently  tell  the  same  story. 
There  is,  for  instance,  the  unknown  factor 
that  is  perpetually  remaking  us  through 
the  mere  lapse  of  time.  Ten  does  not  know 
itself  at  twenty,  nor  twenty  at  forty.  The 
emergence,  as  the  years  circle,  of  new  powers, 
affections  and  interests,  is  as  impossible 
of  retardation  as  the  progress  of  the  seasons. 
The  physiological  theory  of  morals  has  made 
much  of  this.  It  fixes  a  man's  character 
by  the  number  of  his  birthdays.  Huxley, 
in  one  of  his  letters,  touches  with  his  own 
sardonic  gaiety  the  bearing  of  this  theory 
on  old  age  :  "As  you  get  older  and  lose 
voHtion,  primitive  evil  tendencies,  heretofore 
mastered,  come  out  and  show  themselves. 
A  nice  prospect  for  venerable  old  gentlemen  !  " 

Altogether  the  meshes  seem,  on  every  side, 
drawn  tightly  around  us.  Hemmed  in  are 
we,    caught   up,    whirled   hither   and   thither 

18 


266  The  Eteenal  Religion. 

on  the  mighty  loom  of  circumstance,  a  single 
thread  in  Time's  endlessly  woven  fabric. 
And  yet,  miracle  that  we  are,  a  single  glance 
within,  and  the  web  has  disappeared  and  we 
stand  free,  in  a  universe  of  freedom  !  We 
may  never  explain  the  mystery  of  this,  but 
we  cannot  doubt  the  fact.  Like  a  lighthouse 
rising  out  of  a  stormy  sea  stands  the  fortress 
of  our  own  thought  and  our  own  will.  The 
waves  of  the  devouring  ocean  outside  may 
wash  its  walls,  but  they  will  not  enter.  In  a 
thousand  hidden  ways,  as  we  have  said, 
the  material  plays  under  and  round  our 
thought,  but  it  is  not  our  thought. 
Consciousness,  which  is,  let  us  remember,  our 
only  guarantee  of  an  outer  world  at  aD,  is 
still  surer  of  its  own  spiritual  realm.  We 
only  know  of  causes  outside  us  by  jfirst  knowing 
that  we  ourselves  are  a  cause.  Impinged 
on  by  a  myriad  energies,  we  also  are  centres 
of  energy,  ultimate  moral  beginners.  The 
laborious  analysis  of  these  later  years,  from 
Kant  downwards,  has  at  least  demonstrated 
that. 

And  this  gives  us,  at  a  stroke,  a  new  universe 
of  our  own.  That  welter  of  forces  which 
confronts  us  in  the  outside  world  becomes 
suddenly  less  formidable.  The  event,  so 
strange  and  uncouth  as  it  sweeps  on  us  from 
its  far-o£E  origin,  assumes,  as  it  nears,  a  new 
aspect.    It  takes  on  the  image  of  our  own 


The  Central  Mystery.  267 

soul.  We  find  it  shaping  itself  according  to 
the  mould  which  our  faith,  our  love,  our 
courage  have  been  giving  to  the  spirit  within. 
It  will  strike  us  finally  as  some  astronomers 
imagine  that  projectiles  strike  the  sun — to 
feed  its  heat  and  light. 

The  spiritual  man,  while  contemplating 
with  awe  and  wonder  the  unknown  within 
and  without,  by  which  his  life  is  compassed, 
will,  in  this  higher  view,  cease  to  fear  it. 
He  carries  the  certitude  that  the  abyss  into 
which  he  peers  is  carried  within  a  greater 
abyss,  that  of  the  knowledge  and  the  love  of 
God.  From  the  one  he  takes  refuge  in  the 
other.  He  outruns  and  conquers  the  event 
by  submission  and  self-offering.  "  God  gives 
us  the  cross,"  as  a  great  mystic  says,  "  and 
the  cross  gives  us  to  God."  It  is  a  profitable 
exchange. 

Entered  upon  such  a  discipHne  we  shall 
take  the  measure  of  the  external.  We  shall 
place  no  high  value  of  what  it  can  or  caunot 
do.  Our  main  interests  will  be  inward  ones. 
The  real  fascination  of  life  for  us  will  be  in 
such  a  cultivation  of  the  inner  kingdom  as 
shall  make  it  possible  for  something  greater, 
sublimer  than  we  have  yet  known  to  flash  upon 
our  spirit.  The  Christian's  "  central  mystery  " 
has  indeed  been  put  for  us  into  a  great  apostolic 
word  :  "  Now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and  it 
doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be." 


XXX. 
Physical    Righteousness. 

The  coming  Theology  will  bring  important 
readjustments  in  more  than  one  direction. 
Nowhere  will  the  change  be  more  apparent 
than  in  its  concepts  of  sin  and  righteousness, 
and  of  human  responsibility  in  general.  The 
spiritual  consciousness  is  for  one  thing 
developing  a  new  department  of  activity,  to 
which  are  being  transferred  its  most  sacred 
sanctions  and  appeals.  We  may  call  it  the 
department  of  physical  righteousness.  It  is 
singular,  in  looking  back  over  the  old  Theology, 
to  note  how  barren  it  has  been  in  this  region. 
Where  it  has  pronounced  at  all  it  has  been, 
as  often  as  not,  to  utter  the  most  flagrant 
cosmic  heresies.  In  the  supposed  interests 
of  sanctity  it  has  again  and  again,  in  the 
coolest  manner,  invited  rebeUion  against  plain 
natural  laws.  It  was  utterly  ignorant  of  the 
fact  that  the  law  of  the  universe  is  one  and 
that  to  break  it  in  the  physical,  as  well 
as  in  the  highest  moral  sphere,  was  to  brand 
oneself   a   transgressor.     And  that   condition 


Physical  Righteousness.  269 

of  thinking  is  still  largely  prevalent.  One 
of  the  most  needed  steps  towards  the  regenera- 
tion of  modern  society  is  the  rise  among  us 
of  a  new  conviction  of  sin ;  the  turning 
upon  our  present  bodily  conditions  of  some- 
thing of  that  sacred  horror  with  which  the 
earlier  sainthood  regarded  its  spiritual  failures. 
But  let  us,  before  entering  on  particulars 
here,  be  quite  sure  about  our  principle.  In 
religion  some  of  our  oldest  and  most 
venerable  words  are  so  worn  by  usage  that 
we  are  apt  to  miss  their  original  and  true 
significance.  In  this  word  "  righteousness," 
for  example,  we  need  beware  lest  we  take 
an  emotional  substitute  for  the  actual  meaning. 
For,  in  heaven  and  upon  earth,  it  has  only 
one  meaning,  rightness,  which,  again,  means 
always  a  conformity  to  the  law  of  things. 
In  all  her  myriad  departments.  Nature  has 
one  rule  of  conduct  towards  us.  She  pays 
according  to  our  conformity  to  her  law. 
In  music  her  saints  are  the  Beethovens  and 
Mozarts,  who  study  here  most  carefully  her 
eternal  patterns  and  copy  them  most  closely. 
In  the  sphere  of  the  highest  spiritual,  and  just 
the  same  in  athletics,  or  in  mechanics,  the 
one  rule  holds.  In  each  those  will  win  results 
who  are  obedient  to  the  laws  they  see.  Their 
observance  will  be  counted  to  them  for 
righteousness.  The  man  who,  in  any  corner 
of  her  realm,  opens  an  account  with  Nature 


270  The  Eternal  Religion. 

on  these  terms  is  a  creditor  whom  she  will 
never  fail  to  pay. 

Life  being,  as  we  have  said,  a  miity,  the 
term  "  righteousness "  may,  then,  properly 
be  employed  for  all  its  ranges.  Its  appro- 
priateness for  physical  conditions  will  be  more 
clearly  seen  when  we  take  into  account  that 
close  alliance  which  modern  research  has 
revealed  between  the  bodily  and  spiritual 
states.  While  repudiating,  on  good 
philosophical  grounds,  the  medical  materiaUsm 
of  a  Bichat  and  others,  who  make  the  moral 
dispositions,  good  or  bad,  an  affair  purely 
of  our  organic  structure  and  functions,  we 
nevertheless  recognise,  with  a  new  clearness, 
the  marvellous  interplay  between  the  two. 
What,  indeed,  has  come  about  in  modem 
thought  has  been,  not  so  much  the 
materialisation  of  spirit  as  the  spirituahsation 
of  matter.  There  is  no  mental  change  without 
a  physical  concomitant.  And  we  never  alter 
the  conditions  of  our  bodily  life  without 
setting  in  motion  forces  which,  in  a  hundred 
subtle  ways,  affect  for  good  or  ill  our  inmost 
character. 

With  all  this  in  mind  let  us  examine  a  Httle 
how  things  stand  in  the  matter  of  our  physical 
righteousness.  A  glance  only  is  needed  to 
reveal  an  extraordinary  condition  of  things. 
On  all  sides  we  find  people,  of  acutely  sensitive 
consciences  in  what  are  called  moral  questions, 


Physical  Righteousness.  271 

in  this  other  direction  living  in  flattest  rebellion. 
Let  us  take  as  a  single  example  the  matter 
of  the  air  we  breathe.  The  mass  of  us  here 
are  flouting  Nature  every  day,  and  reaping 
the  consequences.  We  are  hearing  just  now 
of  wonders  being  wrought  by  what  is  called 
the  open-air  cure.  The  consumptive,  instead 
of  being  dosed  with  medicines,  is  dosed  with 
pure  air,  and  gets  well  under  the  treatment. 
What  a  hint  for  the  rest  of  us  !  There  are 
more  than  consumptives  who  need  this  regime. 
The  truth  is,  under  the  modern  conditions  of 
industriaHsm  and  great  cities,  we  are  all  of  us 
semi-invalids,  and  there  is  only  one  way 
of  curing  us.  The  English  people  are  suffering 
a  famine  of  fresh  air.  The  population  is 
dwindUng  visibly  before  our  eyes.  Over  70 
per  cent,  of  us  are  shut  up  in  towns,  and  if  any 
one  would  know  what  that  means,  let  him 
make  a  simple  calculation.  The  most  constant 
and  important  of  our  physical  operations  is 
breathing.  Moment  by  moment,  by  day  and 
by  night,  sleeping  and  waking,  it  perpetually 
goes  on.  And  every  one  of  the  innumerable 
breaths  we  draw  in  the  course  of  a  day, 
according  to  its  quality,  whether  pure  or 
impure,  whether  full  of  ozone  or  laden  with 
poisonous  elements,  is  telling  on  our  whole 
nature,  making  its  influence  felt  on  our  every 
organ,  our  every  thought,  and  the  whole  quality 
of  our  feeling.     What  will  be  the  sum  total 


272  The  Etebnal  Religion. 

of  effect  here  in  the  course  of  a  year  ;  what 
upon  the  length  and  effectiveness  of  our  life  ? 
And  what  will  be  the  sum  of  effect  of  these 
conditions  upon  a  generation,  and  upon  the 
progress  from  century  to  century  of  an  entire 
people  ? 

And  yet  we  are  most  of  us  regulating  our 
life,  or  having  it  regulated  for  us,  as  though 
such  a  consideration  were  of  no  importance 
at  all.  We  cannot  grow  decent  flowers  in 
the  heart  of  a  city,  but  we  think  we  can  grow 
men.  The  modern  world  will  have  to  find 
speedily  some  substitute  for,  or  at  least  some 
amelioration  of,  its  town  and  factory 
system  or  it  will  perish  of  inanition. 
Plato,  in  his  ideal  RepubHc,  kept  his  settle- 
ments down  to  4,000  famihes.  Sir  Thomas 
More's  Utopians  changed  from  town  to  country, 
and  vice  versa,  at  intervals  of  years,  that  the 
whole  people  might  enjoy  in  turn  the 
advantages  of  both.  However  we  may  settle 
the  problem,  whether  by  "  garden  cities," 
or  by  the  readjustment  in  manufacturing 
which  the  distribution  of  electric  power  may 
accompHsh,  it  is  plain  that  the  present  con- 
ditions will  have  to  go.  Nature's  demands  here 
are  too  imperative  ;  her  penalties  for  neglect 
are  too  appalling.  The  business  of  a  State,  as 
Thucydides  said  long  ago,  is  not  so  much  to 
produce  this  or  that  product  as  to  grow  men. 
And  you  can  only  grow  them  in  the  open  air. 


Physical  Righteousness.  273 

In  the  meantime,  and  before  these  wholesale 
remodellings,  why  is  it  that  such  multitudes 
of  us,  who  are  luider  no  economic  compulsions, 
are  yet,  from  sheer  indifference,  breaking 
every  day  this  law  of  physical  righteousness  ? 
The  strange  thing  is  that  those  we  should 
naturally  regard  as  guides  should  be  so  often 
among  the  worst  offenders.  Look  at  our 
clerical,  our  journahst,  our  literary  classes  ! 
They  are  a  legion  of  pale  faces.  Their  records 
are  full  of  breakdowns.  They  give  us  a 
dyspeptic  theology  and  a  pessimistic  literature. 
And  the  reason  is  that  so  many  of  them  are 
living  just  below  the  level  of  a  healthy  view 
and  output.  And  yet  so  small  a  change  would 
often  turn  the  scale.  Has  not  an  eminent 
authority  assured  us  that  the  difference 
between  happiness  and  misery  is  the  difference 
between  the  spending  habitually  of  one 
farthing  less  rather  than  one  farthing  more 
of  our  weekly  income  ?  That  is  true  of  our 
nerve  income  as  well  as  of  that  in  pounds 
and  pence.  And  yet,  we  repeat,  so  small 
a  change  of  habit  would  rehabilitate  our 
nerve  bankrupts.  Why  cannot  preachers  and 
writers  do  their  work  out  of  doors  ?  When  a 
caller  at  Wordsworth's  house  asked  to  see 
his  study,  the  servant  pointed  him  to  the 
woods  and  hills  outside.  They  formed  the 
best  possible  study,  and  Wordsworth's  use 
of  it  accounted  largely,  we  do  not  doubt,  both 


274  The  Eternal  Religion. 

for  the  quality  of  his  work  and  the  length  of 
his  life.     It  is  an  example  for  every  brain- 
worker  to  follow.     A  trained  mind  can  concen- 
trate just  as  easily  outside  as  within  walls,  and 
its  thought  will  be  fresher,  because  fed  every 
moment  with  better  air.     It  is  a  regime  for 
almost  all  weathers.     In  the  winter  a  man 
may  read  or  write  as  he  walks,  if  need  be. 
At  all  hazards  let  him  be,  through  the  seasons, 
a  Nature's  man,  taking  alike  her  buffets  and 
her  smiles.   She  will  reward  him  a  hundredfold. 
We  have  touched  only  one  department  of 
physical  righteousness,  but  there  are  so  many 
others.     There   is   the   question   of   our  food 
and   drink.     The   new    conviction    of    sin   of 
which  we  have  spoken  will  work  here  in  many 
directions.     It  will  smite  the  ascetic  not  less 
than  the  man  of  excess.     For  its  standard  is 
the   highest   physical   efficiency,    and  it   will 
reject  as  a  delusion  and  a  snare  the  notion 
that  any  spiritual  excellence  can  be  secured 
by   starving   and   neglecting   the   body.     On 
the  other  hand,   the  new  consciousness  will 
war  decisively  against  the  present  cult  of  the 
stomach.       Whatever     answer    we    give    to 
Maeterlinck's  question  as  to  flesh-eating  it  is 
certain  that  multitudes  of  our  "  well-to-do  " 
are  physically  most  ill-to-do  from  their  eating 
habits.     Their  high  living  is  really  a  very  low 
living.     They  will  never  get  to  the  heights 
with  the  loads  they  carry. 


Physical  Righteousness.  275 

And  if  that  is  true  of  eating,  still  more  is  it 
of  drinking.  Some  day,  surely,  we  shall 
invent  a  better  drink  than  alcohol.  It  is 
good  neither  for  work  nor  play.  As  to  the 
former,  we  may  take  Huxley's  dictum.  Asked 
about  its  use  as  a  stimulant  for  mental  work, 
his  reply  was  :  "I  would  just  as  soon  take  a 
dose  of  arsenic  as  I  would  of  alcohol  under 
such  circumstances."  And  for  play,  his  own 
experience  may  be  also  cited  :  "I  am  as  jolly 
as  a  sandboy  so  long  as  I  live  on  a  minimum 
and  drink  no  alcohol." 

Plainly,  for  its  way  upward  society  wants 
a  new  doctrine  and  a  new  conscience  of  the 
body.  It  will  have  to  recognise  what  we 
may  call  the  spirituality  of  the  body ; 
recognise  what 

Truths  in  manhood  darkly  join, 
Deep  seated  in  our  mystic  frame. 

Its  doctrine  of  spirit  must  include  the  body, 
while  its  doctrine  of  body  must  include  the 
spirit.  When  we  understand  better  how  one 
lives  in  the  other  many  mysteries  will  open 
to  us.  We  shall  learn  how  the  soul  at  times 
of  its  own  energy  heals  the  body.  We  shall 
aspire  after  that  dynamic  of  faith  of  the  early 
Church  which  permits  a  Tertullian  to  speak 
thus,  as  of  a  familiar  experience  :  "  Finally 
we  often  aid  in  this  way  even  the  heathen, 
seeing  we  have  been  endowed  by  God  with 


276  The  Eternal  Religion. 

that  power  which  the  apostle  first  used  when 
he  despised  the  viper's  bite."  In  a  word, 
physical  righteousness,  wrought  out  in  the 
Church  and  in  the  State,  will  be  the  foundation 
of  that  vaster,  nobler  human  Hfe  which,  in  its 
powers  of  thought,  its  capacity  of  enjoyment, 
its  range  of  performance,  and  its  depth  and 
sweetness  of  emotion  shall  be  the  spirit's 
glorious  fruition  in  our  present  sphere,  and 
the  harbinger  of  its  greater  heritage  of  the 
world  to  come. 


XXXI. 

Public  Religion, 

The  nation  during  these  last  years  has  been 
making  repeated  investigations  into  its  religious 
condition.  It  has  suspected  itseK  of  invalidism. 
It  has  called  in  the  specialists.  Its  pulse 
has  been  examined,  its  temperature  taken 
and  its  chest  sounded.  Numerous  bulletins 
have  been  issued — censuses  of  church  attend- 
ance, reports  of  religious  societies,  voluminous 
newspaper  correspondences.  It  is  note- 
worthy that  these  inquiries,  one  and  all, 
have  gone  on  the  supposition  that  religion 
is  a  pubHc  matter,  and  that  its  condition 
is  registered  by  its  public  manifestations. 
So  many  services,  so  many  people  inside 
the  church  door — so  much  religion.  But 
before  we  count  heads  in  this  matter  it  is 
desirable  to  settle,  if  we  can,  a  preliminary 
question.  Is  religion,  after  all,  a  public 
matter  ?  Are  our  ceremonials  the  proper 
gauge  of  its  health  and  activity  ?  It  is 
entirely  necessary  for  any  proper  estimate 
of  the  national  condition,  and  well,  perhaps, 


278  The  Eternal  Religion. 

for  our  own  private  conduct,  that  upon  this 
point  we  first  of  all  come  to  some  conclusion. 
That  the  public  and  spectacular  side  of 
religion  is  an  important  one  goes  without 
saying.  For  long  ages  it  was  practically 
all  there  was.  In  so  advanced  a  period  of 
world  history  as  the  Greek  and  Roman 
civilisations,  we  have,  among  the  masses 
at  least,  this  pubhc  side  as  the  one  and  only 
conception.  There  was  no  idea  of  connecting 
religion  with  morals,  with  a  state  of  mind 
and  character.  Its  relation  to  morals,  indeed, 
was  mainly  in  being  immoral.  Imagine  a 
worship  such  as  that  of  the  Temple  of  Aphrodite 
on  the  Acrocorinthus  at  Corinth,  where,  as  part 
of  the  religious  rites,  a  thousand  female  slaves 
were  kept  for  the  use  of  strangers  !  Rehgion 
was  a  ceremony,  a  holiday,  very  often  an  orgie. 
Both  in  Greece  and  Rome  it  was  not  the  priest, 
it  was  the  philosopher  who  taught  moraUty. 
It  was  from  an  Aristotle  and  a  Socrates,  from 
an  Epictetus  and  a  Seneca,  not  from  augur  or 
sacrificer  that  generous  souls  caught  their 
inspiration.  How  strikingly  does  Aristotle 
set  forth  at  once  the  power  and  the  limitation 
of  this  philosophic  cult  in  that  passage  of  the 
Nicomachean  ethics  where,  speaking  of  moral 
treatises,  he  says  :  "  The  truth  is  they  seem 
to  have  power  to  urge  on  and  excite  young  men 
of  liberal  minds,  and  to  make  a  character  that 
is    generous    and    truly    honourable,     easily 


Public  Religion.  279 

influenced  by  virtue  ;  but  that  they  have  no 
power  to  persuade  the  multitude  to  what  is 
virtuous  and  honourable." 

When  the  Greek  and  Roman  world  came 
under  the  sway  of  Catholic  Christianity  the 
popular  conception  of  religion  as  public  still 
largely  prevailed.  That  compromise  between 
paganism  and  the  Gospel  which  made  up 
CathoHcism,  was  extended  to  the  conception 
of  Church  worship  and  festival.  The  Catholic 
festivals,  were  largely  baptized  heathen  feasts. 
Hamack,  speaking  of  the  fourth-century 
Church  says  :  "  The  saints  took  the  place  of 
the  local  pagan  deities  ;  their  festivals  of  the 
old  provincial  services  of  the  gods.  The  cultus 
of  the  Emperor  tended  to  intrude  itself  into 
the  Church.  .  .  .  The  Christian  religion 
threatened  to  become  a  new  paganism." 
And  this  tradition,  this  hereditary  pre- 
possession, of  rehgion  as  a  ceremony,  a  spectacle 
beginning  and  ending  there,  has,  despite  all 
the  knowledge  that  has  come  into  the  world, 
showed  ever  since  an  astonishing  strength  of 
life.  Was  there,  after  all,  any  great  difference 
between  the  ancient  Greek,  whose  delight 
it  was  adire  Corinthum,  there  to  indulge  at 
one  and  the  same  time  his  passions  and  his 
rehgious  sentiment,  and  the  people  of  the 
Versailles  Court  circle  in  the  eighteenth 
century,  whom  Horace  Walpole  describes  ? 
**  At  Versailles  Royal  Chapel  there  was  Madame 


280  The  Eternal  Religion. 

du  Barry,  the  King's  reigning  mistress,  close 
to  the  altar  ;  her  husband's  sister  was  with 
her.  In  the  tribune  above,  surrounded  by 
prelates,  was  the  amorous  and  still  handsome 
King.  One  could  not  help  smiling  at  the 
mixture  of  piety,  pomp  and  camaUty."  It  is, 
indeed,  to  us  almost  incredible,  yet  perfectly 
true,  that  with  the  New  Testament  before 
them,  ecclesiastical  authorities  should  have 
taught  and  lived  as  though  Christianity  was 
merely  a  pubHc  religion.  But  the  mediaeval 
and  Renaissance  literature  is  full  of  the  proofs. 
Witness,  amongst  a  thousand  other  evidences, 
the  letters  of  Piccolomini,  afterwards  Pope 
Pius  II.,  in  which  he  speaks  without  reserve 
of  his  gross  debaucheries,  and  the  corres- 
pondence, in  a  later  day,  of  the  Abbe  de 
Chaulieu,  at  the  same  time  an  ecclesiastic  and 
the  recognised  pander  to  the  Vendome  princes  ! 
When  we  turn  from  these  ideas  and  habits 
to  religion  as  it  is  exhibited  in  the  teaching 
and  example  of  Jesus  the  contrast  is  startling. 
Here  pubHc  reUgion  is  almost  nothing,  private 
rehgion  is  almost  everything.  Throughout 
the  Gospels  no  emphasis  whatever  is  laid  on 
public  services  or  ceremonies.  In  that  sum- 
mary of  our  relations  with  God  and  man 
contained  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
there  is  no  mention  of  churches  or  congrega- 
tions. It  speaks  of  prayers  to  be  offered  in 
secret,  of  alms  about  which  there  is  to  be  no 


Public  Religion.  281 

advertisement.  We  hear  nothing  of 
processions  or  of  vestments,  of  organings  and 
Te  Deums,  as  means  of  pleasing  Heaven. 
When  we  think  of  the  world's  ideas  in  those 
days  it  is  an  amazing  omission.  What  is 
put  in  their  place  is  no  less  marvellous.  Here, 
spite  of  the  habits  of  countless  centuries, 
religion  is  presented  as  viewless,  as  a  condition 
or  state  of  each  man's  secret  consciousness, 
a  daily  regulation  of  his  inmost  thought, 
feeling  and  voHtion.  The  whole  standard 
is  reversed.  Instead  of  proposing  a  census 
of  the  annual  pilgrimage  to  the  Temple, 
Christ  asks,  as  the  test  of  religion,  "  Are  you, 
men  and  women  of  the  common  life,  lowly 
in  spirit,  meek,  merciful,  pure,  peaceful, 
hungering  for  righteousness,  ready  to  suffer 
for  its  sake ;  are  you  forgiving,  truthful, 
temperate,  happy  in  childlike  trust,  beheving 
in  the  eternal  life  here  and  the  eternal  life 
hereafter  ?  "  To  be  this,  says  Jesus,  is  to 
be  reUgious.  From  beginning  to  end  it  is  an 
affair  of  invisibles.  If  you  wanted  to  estimate 
the  existing  sum  of  religion  in  Israel  it  would 
have  to  be  done,  according  to  Him,  not  by 
counting  heads  in  the  synagogues,  but  by 
weighing  the  amount  of  righteousness,  purity, 
love,  faith  and  humihty  there  and  then 
existent  in  human  souls.  And  His  action,  so 
far  as  we  read  of  it,  was  in  accord  with  His 
words.    We  hear  nothing  of  His    reputation 

19 


282  The  Eternal  Religion. 

as  a  churchgoer.  He  entered  a  synagogue 
once  on  the  Sabbath  day,  but  the  result 
of  His  visit  was  to  scandaHse  grievously  the 
ecclesiastical  authorities.  Nothing,  indeed, 
is  more  certain  than  that,  in  both  the  teachings 
and  the  habits  of  Jesus,  pubhc  or  ceremonial 
rehgion  was  far  back  in  the  second  rank. 

With  these  facts  before  us,  how,  we  now 
ask,  do  matters  stand  in  relation  to  our 
own  conceptions  of  reHgion  ?  We  in  the 
twentieth  century  have  our  church  habitude 
and  tradition  ;  we  also  have  Christ.  In  these 
later  times  we  have  indeed  rediscovered 
Christ,  have  in  some  degree  rescued  His 
personality  from  the  ecclesiasticism  which  for 
centuries  had  obscured  His  true  significance. 
And  the  discovery  has  reacted  profoundly,  and 
will  do  so  yet  more,  on  our  view  of  public 
as  related  to  private  religion.  Protestantism 
started  the  movement  by  offering  to  men's 
gaze  the  Christianity  of  the  Bible  side  by  side 
with  the  Christianity  of  the  Church.  In  the 
Reformed  communities  the  new  knowledge 
produced  immediately  a  radical  change  in 
the  conception  of  pubhc  worship.  It  was 
everywhere  seen,  though  more  or  less  clearly, 
that  public  religion  existed  for,  and  had  its 
whole  raison  d'etre  in,  the  promotion  of  private 
rehgion.  The  Church,  with  its  ceremonies, 
its  prayers  and  pubHc  exhortations,  was  not 
an  end  in  itself ;    it  was  only  justified  as  the 


Public  Religion.  283 

means  to  an  end,  the  production,  namely,  in 
men's  minds  and  hearts  of  that  series  of 
invisible  but  glorious  realities  pictured  in  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount. 

This  end  has  in  many  churches,  and  for 
long  periods,  been  obscured  by  doctrinal  and 
ecclesiastical  considerations,  but  in  our  day 
it  is  at  last  emerging  into  sunbright  clearness. 
The  best  men  everywhere  recognise  that  if 
Christ's  Christianity  means  anything,  it  means 
that  the  Church  exists  for  the  reformation 
and  development  of  inner  character.  Dogmatic 
eagerness,  emotional  excitement,  sesthetic 
religious  delights  are  nothing  except  in  so  far 
as  they  can  be  translated  into  permanent 
states  of  the  mind.  The  highest  Churchman 
would  concede  as  much,  and  would  say  with 
Hooker  of  his  Church  festivals  that  they  are 
not  only  "  the  splendour  and  outward  dignity 
of  our  religion,"  but  "  the  forcible  witnesses 
of  ancient  truth,  provocations  to  the  exercise 
of  all  piety,  shadows  of  our  endless  felicity 
in  heaven,  on  earth  everlasting  records  and 
memorials." 

To  have  come  so  far  is  indeed  to  have 
made  an  enormous  advance  on  those  earlier 
conceptions  with  which  we  have  dealt.  But 
we  shall  go  farther  yet.  For  we  are  still 
in  the  toils  of  ecclesiasticism,  and  have  not 
yet  f oimd  the  courage  to  follow  Christ.  But  the 
day  draws  nearer  when    religion  will  be  put 


284  The  Eternal  Religion, 

entirely  on  His  basis.  His  kingdom  will  be 
known  as  always  within.  This  is  not  to  say 
that  public  religion  will  decline,  far  less  die 
out.  That  would  be  to  contradict  human 
nature,  which  demands  the  outward  ex- 
pression of  its  inner  feeling.  There  are  heights 
and  depths  of  human  emotion  which  can 
only  be  reached  in  company.  A  French 
writer  has  a  deeply  interesting  book  on  the 
phenomena  of  crowds.  Man  in  the  mass  is 
other  and,  in  some  respects,  greater  than 
man  by  himself.  And  that  feature  of  his  life 
has  vitally  important  aspects  in  the  matter 
of  religion. 

The  common  worship  has  indeed  an  im- 
mense future.  Men  will  bring  new  elements 
into  it  and  will  make  it  express  the  vaster 
aspiration,  the  wider  view,  the  heightened 
joy  of  living,  the  fuller  realisation  of  the  soul's 
utmost  powers  which  to-day  are  opening  to 
the  human  gaze.  The  message  proclaimed 
there, — saturated  with  that  New  Testament 
ethic  which  an  Edmond  Scherer,  sceptic  as  he 
was,  declared  to  be  "  for  ever  linked  with  the 
destinies  of  holiness  on  earth,"  and  charged 
with  those  niysterious  spiritual  forces  which 
spring  from  the  Gospel's  heart — will  continue 
as  of  old  to  search  men's  lives,  to  heal  wounded 
spirits,  to  arrest  the  young  at  the  parting 
of  the  roads  and  set  their  feet  on  the  way 
everlasting. 


Public  Religion.  285 

But  when  all  this  is  said  the  point  of  our 
theme  remains.  Henceforth,  we  shall  make 
no  mistake  as  to  where  the  emphasis  of  Christ's 
rehgion  lies.  It  is  not  in  congregations,  nor 
in  the  figures  of  a  church  census.  You  have 
not  fixed  your  man,  in  any  Christian  sense, 
by  calling  him  Anglican  or  Presbyterian, 
orthodox  or  otherdox.  If  I  see  my  neighbour 
this  Sunday  morning  in  the  next  pew,  well. 
If  instead  he  is  worshipping  God  on  the  hill 
side  I  have  no  word  from  Christ  to  throw 
at  him.  You  and  I  are  Christians  not  by 
these  tests,  but  according  to  the  precise 
height  in  us  of  love  and  faith,  of  purity, 
generosity,  and  helpfulness.  Indeed,  when 
the  best  of  human  living  has  been  reached 
it  will  be  in  a  city  without  a  church. 
The  Bible  depicts  that  condition  in  one  of  its 
sublimest  and  final  words  :  "  And  I  saw  no 
temple  therein ;  for  the  Lord  God  Almighty 
and  the  Lamb  are  the  temple  of  it." 


XXXII. 
Religion  and  Amusement. 

An  indispensable  feature  of  the  final  religion 
will  be  the  fixing  of  its  attitude  to  life's  lighter 
side.  The  question  here  is  a  difficult  one, 
and  that  chiefly,  perhaps,  from  the  fact  that 
the  great  religious  founders  are  themselves, 
by  temperament  more  even  than  by  convic- 
tion, somewhat  remote  from  this  side.  The 
elite  here  are  away  from  the  masses. 

"  Life,"  said  Sir  George  Comewall  Lewis, 
"  would  be  very  tolerable  were  it  not  for  its 
amusements ."  He  was  apparently  of  Bagehot's 
opinion  that  "  business  is  so  much  more 
amusing  than  pleasure."  It  is  the  cry  of  all 
the  finer  spirits.  What  the  multitude  goes 
after  is  to  them  an  incomprehensibly  childish 
affair.  Westcott  could  not  fit  the  clown  into 
his  scheme  of  the  universe.  And,  indeed,  is 
there  anything  more  ghastly,  more  fitted  to 
throw  one  into  the  abysses  of  pessimism,  than 
the  painted  face  of  the  comedian  ?  Pascal 
took  pleasure  as  one  of  the  grounds  of  his 
indictment  of  life  ;  men  pursued  it,   he  said, 

285 


Religion  and  Amusement.  287 

in  order  to  forget  their  miserable  selves.  It 
has  to  be  said,  however,  that  the  pursuit, 
whatever  underlies  it,  is  in  fullest  vogue  to-day. 
Preachers  complain,  as  did  Chrysostom,  a 
millennium  and  a  haK  ago,  at  Constantinople, 
that  people  are  leaving  the  church  to  flock 
to  the  spectacle.  There  are  twenty  thousand 
at  the  football  match  on  a  Saturday,  and  not 
one  in  a  hundred  of  them  in  the  meeting- 
house next  day.  The  crowd  is  not  serious. 
What  it  reads  is  mainly  trash.  The  thing 
that  holds  it  is  not  philosophy  or  theology, 
but  a  music-hall  catch,  or  the  tug  of  war 
between  a  Hackenschmidt  and  a  Madrali. 

To  begin  with,  must  we  suppose  that  our 
generation  is  more  frivolous  than  another  ? 
The  idea  hardly  accords  with  our  reading  of 
history.  Follow  the  story  of  any  given 
century,  its  literature,  the  record  of  its  vie 
intime,  and  compare  it  with  to-day.  What 
are  our  wrestlings  and  prize  fights  compared 
with  the  sights  of  the  Roman  Coliseum,  where 
men  and  women  looked  from  the  crowded 
benches  with  rapture  on  the  slaughter  of 
hundreds  of  hapless  victims  !  Take  the 
common  life  where  we  will,  what  is  its  quality  ? 
Here,  for  instance,  is  Alexandria  in  Clement's 
time,  after  Christianity  had  been  long  at  work 
and  powerful  there.  Let  anyone  read  that 
curious  chapter  of  his  in  the  "  Paedagogus  " 
on    the    occupations    and   diversions    of    the 


288  The  Etebnal  Religion. 

women ;  how  "  at  the  dawn  of  the  day 
manghng,  racking  and  plastering  themselves 
over  with  certain  compositions,  they  chill  the 
skin,  furrow  the  flesh  with  poisons,  and  with 
curiously  prepared  washes,  thus  blighting 
their  own  beauty."  It  is,  in  fact,  Juvenal's 
story  over  again.  We  leap  across  a  thousand 
years,  to  the  Renaissance  time,  and  find 
Aretino  excusing  himself  thus  for  one  of  his 
infamous  productions  :  "I  have  to  consider 
the  tastes  of  my  contemporaries.  Amusement 
and  scandal  are  the  only  things  that  pay. 
Why  write  serious  books  ?  I  sent  one  to 
Francis  I.  five  years  ago,  and  am  still  waiting 
acknowledgment.  I  have  just  addressed  my 
*  Courtesan '  to  the  King,  and  by  return  of 
post  received  a  gold  chain."  Examine,  in  fact, 
any  period  of  the  past,  looking  specially  into 
its  private  records,  and  you  find,  with  one 
or  two  brief  exceptions,  a  condition  of  things 
as  to  f rivoHty  and  licence  that  makes  our  time 
«eem  a  sobersides  indeed. 

Yet  these  centuries,  as  they  have  rolled 
on,  with  their  inconsequence,  their  thought- 
lessness, their  madcap  revelries,  have  had 
always  their  earnest  remonstrants.  The 
Christian  Church,  with  its  message  to  men 
of  life's  immense  invisible  issues,  has  con- 
tinually used  this  as  an  argument  for  the 
restraint  of  its  mirth.  The  Fathers  were 
dead   against   the   spectacles    and    theatrical 


Religion  and  Amusement.  289 

exhibitions  of  the  Roman  world.  In  that 
work  of  uncertain  date  the  "  Apostolic 
Constitutions  "  we  read,  "  If  anyone  follows 
the  sports  of  the  theatre,  their  huntings,  or 
horse  races,  or  combats,  either  let  him  leave 
them  off,  or  let  him  be  rejected."  The  same 
note  is  everywhere  in  that  early  literature. 
And  it  has  been  constantly  repeated  both  in 
Catholicism  and  Protestantism.  In  1694  the 
theologians  of  the  Sorbonne  decided  that 
"  comedians  by  their  profession,  as  they 
exercise  it,  are  in  a  state  of  mortal  sin." 
And  we  remember  the  terrible  words  which 
Bossuet  in  the  same  age^  used  of  the  dead 
Moliere.  The  Protestant  Churches  have  borne 
similar  testimony :  witness  our  Puritans, 
Prynne  with  his  Histriomastix,  and  Jeremy 
CoUier  with  his  "  Serious  View." 

Thus  of  the  past.  But  what  now  of  the 
present,  and  of  ourselves  ?  Are  we  bound 
by  those  earlier  judgments  ?  Were  they 
universal  judgments,  good  for  all  time  because 
founded  in  the  eternal  law  ?  Is  the  theatre 
taboo  to  the  Christian  of  the  twentieth  as  it 
was  to  the  Christian  of  the  third  century  ? 
These  are  questions  which  are  put  to  every 
religious  teacher  by  anxious  souls.  On  our 
way  to  an  answer  let  us  remember  two  or 
three  things.  First,  that  the  judgment  of 
the  early  Church,  or  of  the  Church  in  any 
later  period,   does   not,   of   itself,   constitute 


290  The  Eternal  Religion. 

any  binding  obligation  for  us.  The  categorical 
imperative  for  our  conscience  must  be  some- 
thing more  than  an  echo  from  the  past.  It 
must  contain  its  own  reasons.  That  the 
early  Church  believed  the  world  was  made 
in  six  days,  that  the  sun  went  round  the  earth, 
that  the  end  of  things  was  immediately  at 
hand,  constitutes  to  me  absolutely  no  reason 
why  I  should  beUeve  these  things,  as  against 
contrary  evidence  that  seems  stronger.  In 
like  manner  in  matters  of  conduct,  what  the 
Fathers  say,  whether  singly  or  in  Council,  is 
to  be  taken  by  us  precisely  for  what  it  is 
worth,  regard  being  had  to  the  circumstances 
of  their  time,  to  their  education  as  compared 
with  our  own,  and  to  the  relation  of  their 
action  and  utterance  to  ultimate  principles. 

When  we  take  things  along  these  lines 
we  find,  to  begin  with,  that  the  problem  the 
early  Fathers  confronted,  as  to  the  theatre 
and  spectacles  generally,  was  a  very  different 
one  from  that  before  us  to-day.  Christianity 
was  then  a  missionary  encampment  in  the 
midst  of  a  hostile  country.  It  was  engaged 
in  the  immense  task  of  the  elaboration  of  a 
new  social  order.  It  was  creating  a  fresh 
world,  which  should  have  work  and  play, 
duties  and  diversions  of  its  own.  The  amuse- 
ments outside  had  become  really  too  bad  to  be 
admitted  or  copied.  The  student  of  classic 
literature    knows    what    we    speak    of.    The 


Religion  and  Amusement.         291 

English  reader  will  get  some  information 
from  his  Gibbon  or  his  Lecky. 

The  problem  we  have  to  face  belongs,  on 
the  contrary,  to  the  amusements  that  have 
arisen  within  Christendom.  The  modem 
theatre  is  actually  an  offspring  of  the  Church. 
Its  origin  is  in  the  mystery  plays  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  where  sacred  scenes  were  exhibited 
by  the  clergy  assisted  by  the  laity  ;  at  first 
with  a  purely  religious  intention,  and  then, 
as  the  thing  developed,  with  an  intermixture 
of  the  broadest  and  coarsest  farce.  And  let  us 
here  remember  that  the  drama,  in  some  form 
or  other,  is  bound  to  emerge  and  to  assert  itself, 
and  that  because  its  substance  lies  in  the 
very  fibre  of  human  nature.  Life  itself 
is  drama.  It  was  inevitable  with  this  raw 
material  at  hand,  these  tragedies  and  comedies 
of  daily  affairs,  this  play  of  the  passions,  this 
exuberance  in  the  soul  of  humour  and  fancy, 
of  wrath  and  pity,  that  it  should  all 
be  dramatised.  The  rough  facts  of  things 
were  bound  to  be  lifted,  in  this  way,  to  the 
plane  of  the  ideal,  that  men  might  find  here 
a  refuge  from  what  Pater  calls  "  a  certain 
vulgarity  in  the  actual." 

But  that,  we  are  told  by  modern  remon- 
strants, is  not  the  point.  We  may  admit, 
they  say,  the  drama  in  the  abstract ;  may 
hold  with  George  Macdonald  to  the  thought 
of  an  ideal  Christian  theatre.    What  we  have 


292  The  Eternal  Religion. 

to  deal  with  is  the  theatre  as  it  is,  and  the 
patronage  which  professed  Christians  are 
extending  to  it.  In  this  connection  Clement 
Scott,  the  well-known  critic,  is  quoted  with 
his  really  appalling  word :  "  It  is  nearly 
impossible  for  a  woman  to  remain  pure  who 
adopts  the  stage  as  a  profession."  Can  any 
man  with  a  conscience,  it  is  asked,  support 
an  institution  which  has  this  as  its  outcome  1 
Ought  he  not,  rather,  with  all  his  might  to 
labour  to  suppress  it  ?  The  statement  was, 
we  believe,  modified  by  its  author,  but  as  it 
stands,  the  argument  seems  irresistibly  strong. 
It  is  singular,  however,  that  people  who  so 
keenly  realise  what  seems  the  logic  of  the 
situation  should  so  utterly  fail  to  see  its 
application  elsewhere.  The  argument  would, 
for  instance,  rob  us  of  our  breakfast  table. 
Almost  everything  there — our  tea,  coffee, 
sugar,  bread  and  a  dozen  other  things,  come 
from  oversea.  They  are  carried  in  ocean 
tramps,  the  existing  conditions  of  which 
almost  exclude  any  religious  or  high  moral  life 
amongst  the  seamen.  Are  we,  then,  by  our  use 
of  tea  and  coffee  and  these  other  things,  to  sup- 
port a  system  which  so  demoralises  vast  numbers 
of  our  fellow-men  ?  One  scarcely  knows,  indeed, 
where  this  argument  would  stop,  or  what  it 
would  leave  us,  if  once  we  set  it  going. 

The  truth  is  that,  in  this  bewildering  complex 
of  a  world,  we  cannot  at  present  attain  any- 


Religion  and  Amusement.  293 

where  to  the  strict,  high  logic  of  things.  We 
are  mixed  up  in  a  scheme  where  much  needs 
mending.  Well,  let  us  mend  it !  We  shall 
not  give  up  our  imports  because  our  sailors 
are  not  within  reach  of  church  on  Sunday 
morning,  nor  need  we  suggest  the  abolition 
of  the  drama  because  of  the  present  conditions 
in  the  green-room.  These  things,  the  ship 
and  the  play,  are  part,  as  it  seems,  of  the 
business  of  living,  and  the  question  for  con- 
scientious men  is,  not  of  their  suppression, 
which  is  impossible,  but  of  their  being  made, 
by  effort  and  teaching  and  the  presentation 
of  ideals,  a  part  of  the  business,  not  only  of 
living,  but  of  the  higher  living. 

The  point  we  chiefly  insist  upon  here  is 
that  the  more  instructed  spirits,  who  have 
found  the  deeper  joys  of  life,  should  not 
be  too  eager  in  their  judgment  of  those  less 
enlightened  who  are  on  the  plane  of  the 
inferior  things.  Let  us  catch  something  of 
the  large  patience  of  God.  We  cannot  coerce 
our  masses  into  the  Kingdom.  They  must 
find  their  own  way  upward.  A  policy  of 
coercion  and  of  condemnation  is  no  true 
religious  method.  It  savours  of  the  French 
revolutionary's  cry,  "  Be  my  brother,  or  I 
wiU  kiU  you." 

To  some  of  us,  occupied  with  life's  deeper 
business,  in  contact  with  its  highest  things, 
to  whom  the  world  visible  and  invisible  opens 


294  The  Eternal  Religion. 

daily  with  an  ever  more  ravishing  sense  of 
its  inner  meaning,  it  may  indeed  seem  strange 
and  pitiful  to  see  men  rushing  here  and  there, 
on  such  false  scents,  for  what  they  call  their 
pleasure.  But  that  we  are  further  up  gives 
us  no  right  to  judge  the  man  who  is  lower 
down.  If  we  would  help  him  it  must  be  by 
something  better  than  those  "  scruples " 
which,  as  Dr.  Johnson  said,  "  often  make  men 
miserable,  but  never  make  them  good." 
Yet,  how  one  pities  these  "  pleasure  "  seekers  • 
If  only  they  knew  that  to  be  blessed,  as 
possession  of  the  inner  treasure  makes  men 
blessed,  contains  all  they  find  and  a  thousand 
things  more  ! 


XXXIII. 

Religious   Epicures. 

The  word  "  epicure,"  as  we  now  use  it,  has  a 
too  restricted  application.  We  apply  it  usually 
to  the  gourmet,  to  the  club  exquisite  whose 
palate  is  the  most  educated  part  of  him. 
But  there  are  other  epicures,  who  are  in  no 
special  sense  devotees  of  the  stomach.  In  this 
connection  it  is  curious  to  note  that  Epicurus 
himself,  from  whom  the  term  is  derived,  is 
reported  to  have  lived  on  brown  bread  and 
water,  and  to  "  have  borrowed  some  cheese 
from  a  friend,  when  he  would  make  a  solemn 
feast !  "  Indeed,  it  must  be  said  that  Epicurus 
has  been  somewhat  badly  used  in  history 
and  in  the  popular  mind.  His  view  of  pleasure 
was  very  different  from  that  of  the  mere 
sensuaHst.  And  when  he  declared  pleasure 
to  be  the  highest  good  he  was  only  saying 
what  Bentham,  Paley  and  many  another 
modern  philosopher  of  repute  has  repeated 
after  him.  The  Bentham  and  Paley  definition 
of  happiness  is,  we  may  remember,  "  the  sum 
of  pleasures,"  and  these  writers  are  not  even 

295 


296  The  Eternal  Religion. 


as  particular  as  was  the  Greek  philosopher  in 
assigning  a  qualitative  difference  to  pleasure. 

The  discussion  here,  indeed,  is  an  old  one, 
and  promises  to  be  interminable.  When  one 
controversialist  says  that  enjoyment,  and 
another  that  duty,  and  a  third  that  inner 
development,  the  attainment  of  perfection, 
is  the  highest  end  of  man,  we  find — so  subtly 
is  the  spiritual  organism  interwoven,  by  such 
delicate  and  imperceptible  degrees  does  one 
phase  shade  into  [another — that  we  are  fairly 
at  a  loss  for  our  own  decision.  Duty  ? 
Pleasure  ?  Development  ?  But  is  not  duty 
a  phase  of  pleasure  ?  Who  shall  say  that, 
with  the  higher  minds,  duty  is  not  embraced 
instinctively  as  the  noblest  joy,  and  that 
these  two,  duty  and  the  happiness  of  per- 
forming it,  are  not  in  their  turn  the  essentials 
of  development  ? 

But  amid  the  confusion  one  thing  stands 
out  with  perfect  clearness.  While  the  pursuit 
of  pleasure,  or,  if  you  will,  of  happiness,  is 
common  to  the  race,  the  whole  difference 
of  character  lies  in  the  kind  of  pleasures  that 
most  appeal  to  us.  The  saint  and  the 
sensualist  may  be  described  as  seeking  with 
an  equal  ardour  for  enjoyment.  But  what 
an  immeasurable  difference  in  quality,  in  the 
whole  range  and  character  of  life,  between 
the  low  deUghts  of  a  Catherine  Sforza,  or  of  a 
Sardanapolus,  with  his  terrible  motto,  "  Eat 


Religious  Epicures.  297 

and  drink  and  gratify  your  lust,  for  all  else  is 
little  worth,"  and  the  pure,  intellectual  joy 
of  a  Spinoza,  or  the  religious  raptures  of  a 
Madame  Guyon !  That  distinction,  indeed, 
which  David  Hartley  labours  in  his 
"  Observations  on  Man,"  and  with  which  the 
eighteenth  century  so  much  occupied  itself, 
between  pleasures,  as  those  of  "  gross  self- 
interest,"  "  refined  seK-interest,"  and  "  rational 
self-interest,"  is  still  worthy  of  our  best 
study. 

It  is  significant  to  note,  in  the  wide 
divergence  of  opinion,  that  on  one  point 
men  of  the  most  opposite  schools  seem  agreed. 
They  unite  in  regarding  a  self- culture  which 
may  yield  them  the  highest  type  of  pleasures 
as  one  at  least  of  life's  chief  aims.  Over  two 
thousand  years  ago  Plato,  in  the  Phaedrus, 
uttered  a  word  which,  in  varied  form,  we  have 
ever  since  been  repeating  ;  "  Grant  me  to 
become  fair  within,  and  whatever  external 
things  I  have,  let  them  be  agreeable  to  what 
is  within."  It  is  that  same  sentiment 
Taine  expresses  in  his  diary — and  which  a 
Catholic  or  a  Methodist  might  adopt  with 
equal  ardour — "  My  only  desire  is  to  improve 
myself,  in  order  to  be  worth  a  little  more  every 
day,  and  able  to  look  within  myself  without 
displeasure.  <  .  .  Being  a  true  Sybarite, 
I  am  going  to  sweep  and  garnish  this  inmost 
dwelling,  and  to  set  up  in  it  some  true  ideas. 


298  The  Eternal  Religion. 

some  good  intentions  and  a  few  sincere 
affections.'*  On  the  same  liae  we  find 
Maeterlinck,  in  his  declaration  that,  for  this 
higher  enjoyment,  "  sterile  pleasures  of  the 
body  must  be  sacrificed ;  all  that  is  not  in 
absolute  harmony  with  a  larger,  more  durable 
energy  of  thought." 

In  the  Christian  scheme  and  experience  we 
have  this  inner  cultivation,  the  development 
of  all  the  finer  feeHng,  carried  to  its  highest 
point.  Whatever  else  may  be  said,  it  will 
ever  remain  true  that  in  this  school  have  been 
developed  the  noblest  emotions  that  have 
throbbed  in  the  human  bosom.  What 
banquets  of  the  soul  have  been  here  enjoyed  ! 
What  a  height  of  inner  consciousness  is 
represented  by  that  wonderful  saying  of 
Augustine,  true  nevertheless  to  a  myriad 
humbler  men :  **  And  sometimes  Thou 
admittest  me  to  an  affection,  very  unusual,  in 
my  inmost  soul,  rising  to  a  strange  sweetness, 
which,  if  it  were  perfected  in  me,  I  know 
not  what  in  it  would  not  belong  to  the  life 
to  come.'*  And  if  this  is  the  joy  of  the  solitary 
soul,  what  of  that  exquisite  community  of 
feeling  which  the  Christian  fellowship  has  also 
produced  !  Take,  for  illustration,  that  lovely 
picture  of  the  brotherhood  of  disciples  who 
gathered  round  and  lived  with  the  saintly 
Origen.  It  is  Gregory  Thaumaturgus  who 
gives  us  the  scene  :    "  This  sacred  fatherland, 


Religious  Epicures.  299 

where,  both  by  day  and  by  night,  the  holy 
laws  are  declared,  and  hymns  and  songs  and 
spiritual  words  are  heard  ;  where  also  there 
is  perpetual  sunlight,  and  where  by  day  in 
waking  vision  we  have  access  to  the  mysteries 
of  God,  and  by  night  in  dreams  we  are  still 
occupied  with  what  the  soul  has  seen  and 
handled  in  the  day,  and  where,  in  short,  the 
inspiration  of  Divine  things  prevails  over  all 
continually." 

Gracious  pictures  truly !  And  yet  it  is 
precisely  here  that  one  of  the  gravest  moral 
questions  emerges,  and  one  of  the  subtlest 
of  life's  temptations.  For  the  very  luxury 
of  higher  emotion,  to  which  Christianity  so 
lends  itself,  may,  if  not  watched,  lead  fatally 
astray.  There  opens  a  road  here  to  a  refined 
but  not  less  deadly  selfishness.  When  a  man 
has  made  the  one  object  of  his  life  the  feeding 
of  his  religious  sensibilities,  he  is — startling 
though  it  may  seem — off  the  track  and  in  a 
bad  way.  To  become  an  epicure  of  feeling, 
even  though  it  be  the  higher  feeling,  is  one 
of  the  things  a  wholesome  nature  will  avoid, 
as  a  kind  of  internal  disease.  And  yet  so 
fascinating  a  road  this,  one  which  to  sensitive 
natures  appeals  with  so  irresistible  a  charm  ! 
A  man  convinces  himself  that  here  is  the  true 
and  blessed  life.  From  the  vulgar  pursuit 
of  sensual  delights,  from  the  sordid  rush  for 
gain,  from  the  debauches  that  bring  satiety. 


300  The  Eternal  Religion. 

and  the  actions  that  are  followed  by  the 
disquiet  of  an  evil  conscience — from  all  this 
he  will  withdraw  himself  that,  without  let  or 
hindrance,  he  may  set  his  mind  day  by  day 
upon  "  the  contemplation  and  enjoyment 
of  the  highest  good."  And  at  the  end  he 
shall  be  the  Sir  Willoughby  Patteme  of  his 
circle,  and  his  true  denomination,  "  the 
egotist "  ! 

No.  It  will  not  do.  Nobleness  does  not 
consist  in  the  perpetual  hunt  for  fine  emotions. 
Nature  herself  reads  us  this  lesson  by  refusing 
these  sensations  to  the  too  eager  searcher, 
and  offering  him  instead  SLn  unhealthy 
morbidity.  And  she  has  written  the  same 
lesson  broad  and  deep  upon  history*  It  is 
precisely  the  cult  of  emotion,  the  perpetual 
balancing  of  present  or  prospective  sensations 
in  relation  to  a  given  course  of  conduct,  that 
has  led  to  some  of  the  gravest  disorders  and 
disasters  of  the  Church's  life.  The  tendency 
has,  amongst  other  things,  been  one  of  the 
main  feeders  of  ecclesiastical  ignorance  and 
obscurantism.  There  is  a  whole  school  of 
piety  that  turns  away  from  honest  inquiry 
because  it  fears  to  lose  a  given  phase  of  feeling. 
It  is  well  illustrated  by  the  story  of  one  of 
Wesley's  preachers,  to  whom  somebody, 
desirous  of  improving  the  exhorter's  English, 
sent  a  grammar  with  the  request  that  he  would 
study  it.    The  gift  was  soon  after  returned  by 


Religious  Epicures.  3C1 

the  Methodist,  with  the  remark  that  "  he 
could  j&nd  nothing  about  Christ  in  it "  ! 
Better  cultivated  men  than  this  worthy  are 
to-day  in  a  similar  mental  condition.  Till 
a  man  has  learned  to  value  truth  above 
the  taste  of  any  particular  sensibility,  he  is 
an  outsider  to  genuine  manhood. 

The  test  yields  the  same  result  when  we 
come  from  mental  life  to  that  of  action.  The 
exquisites  of  feeling  are  not  commonly  the 
stuff  of  which  heroes  are  made.  The  poor 
serving-maid  who  trudges  along  cheerfully 
day  by  day  with  her  monotonous  task  ;  the 
rough  collier,  of  sporting  instinct  and  lurid 
vocabulary,  who  yet  when  his  comrade  is 
entombed  risks  his  life  without  a  moment's 
hesitation  in  the  effort  to  save  him,  are,  on 
the  whole,  better  human  types  than  the 
neurotic  mental  gourmand,  who  searches 
incessantly  for  this  and  that  flavour  of  feeling, 
who  examines  his  pulse  at  each  moment  to  dis- 
cover the  precise  condition  of  his  inner  health. 

This  question  is  of  the  first  importance 
for  the  religious  life.  We  are  in  an  age  of 
conventions,  of  retreats  and  other  aids  to 
devotion.  Kept  within  their  proper  limits, 
and  strictly  to  their  true  uses,  gatherings 
of  this  kind  are  a  noble  stimulus  to  humble 
and  earnest  souls.  But  even  here  the  danger 
lurks.  The  peril  is  that  a  man  shall  get 
the    habit    of    staying    on    the    transfigured 


302  The  Eternal  Religion. 

mount  above,  while  the  sick  and  needy  await 
in  vain  his  presence  below.  When  we  run 
from  the  drudgery  of  some  uninspiring  duty, 
leaving  it,  maybe,  to  others,  or  altogether 
undone,  in  order  that  we  may  taste  the  latest 
spiritual  sensation,  we  are  on  a  byway  to  the 
pit.  Coleridge,  who  as  HazUtt  said,  "  talked 
on  for  ever  and  you  wished  him  to  talk  on  for 
ever  "  ;  who  dreamed  through  every  phase 
of  the  rehgious  consciousness,  was  content 
with  dreaming,  and  talked,  but  did  nothing. 
And  meanwhile  neither  men  nor  nations  are 
made  by  dreaming  and  talking. 

Nature  moreover  gives  her  verdict  on  this 
question  by  the  rewards  she  offers  to  those 
who,  heroic  of  purpose,  do  their  deed  irre- 
spective of  what  feehng  may  accompany 
or  follow.  It  is  precisely  those  who  stand 
to  their  task,  "  in  scorn  of  consequence,"  to 
whom  she  opens,  at  most  unexpected  moments, 
her  rarest  treasures  of  feeling.  It  was  not  a 
spiritual  epicureanism,  a  mere  desire  for  a 
refined  pleasure,  that  sent  plain  John  Nelson  to 
a  filthy  dimgeon  for  preaching  the  GospeL 
But  it  was  the  gracious,  wonderful  spiritual 
law  that  rules  the  universe  which,  when  he 
got  there,  made  his  soul  as  he  tells  us,  "as  a 
watered  garden,"  and  caused  him  "  to  sing 
praises  to  God  all  day  long." 

To-day  we  want  the  heroic  temper.  "  A 
great  time  demands  great  hearts,"  wrote  the 


Religious  Epicures.  303 

hero-poet,  Komer,  who  gave  his  life  for  his 
German  Fatherland.  "  Shall  I  write  vaude- 
villes when  my  country  calls  me  ?  "  And  if 
humanity,  in  the  degenerate  days  that  are 
now  upon  us,  is  to  be  saved  anew  to  faith  and 
freedom,  the  deed  will  be  wrought  byfmen 
and  women  of  this  mould.  In  this  fight^^it 
will  not  be  by  people  who  count  over  their 
sensations,  who  think  of  life  mainly  as  "a 
sum  of  pleasures,"  that  the  victory  is  won. 
Not  by  the  "  epicures  of  feeling,"  but  by 
hero  souls  "  who  count  not  their  lives  dear  unto 
themselves,"  shall  an  emasculated,  pleasure- 
drunk  generation  be  won  back  to  strength 
and  righteousness. 


XXXIV. 

Last  Things. 

Anyone  desirous  of  exhibiting  in  unconven- 
tional fashion  the  religious  significance  of 
life,  could  hardly  do  better  than  investigate 
what  is  contained  in  its  "  never  more." 
Nothing,  probably,  has  done  so  much  to 
educate  the  human  spirit,  to  compel  it  to 
seriousness,  as  its  experience  of  endings.  One 
can  imagine  a  world  in  which  there  were  none, 
but  that  is  not  our  world.  The  most  insistent 
fact  with  which  we  have  each  one  of  us  to 
deal  is  that  nothing  lasts.  The  system  of 
things  imder  which  we  live  arranges  for  us, 
in  all  directions,  a  series  of  repetitions  which 
continues  just  long  enough  to  give  us  the  idea 
of  permanence,  and  then  breaks  down.  We 
do  a  thing  for  ten  thousand  times  and  then  do 
it  no  more.  A  preacher  wears  the  steps  of 
his  pulpit  with  innumerable  ascents.  He 
goes  down  them  one  day,  saying  to  himself, 
"It  is  over."  With  a  careless  "Good-night," 
we  leave  an  acquaintance  of  forty  years, 
expecting  to  see  him  on  the  morrow.    It  is 


Last  Things.  305 


our  final  word.  This  is  the  inevitable  that  is 
written  upon  everything.  As  surely  as  we 
begin  we  end.  Our  every  course  of  action, 
our  every  circle  of  friends,  our  every  phase  of 
thinking  and  of  feeling  exists,  as  it  seems, 
for  this  one  sure  result,  that  it  may  pass 
and  be  no  more. 

It  is  hei3,  we  have  just  said,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  transitory,  that  we  most  clearly 
discern  life's  reUgious  significance.  From  the 
beginning  men  have  recognised  this.  It  is 
true  that  mocking  spirits  have  from  time  to 
time  sought  to  extract  from  it  a  contrary 
doctrine.  The  "  Sceptics  of  the  Old  Tebia- 
ment,"  as  a  recent  author  has  named  the 
writers  of  Job  and  of  Ecclesiastes,  suggest  at 
times  a  mood  of  despair,  as  though  our  exist- 
ence, in  view  of  its  endings,  were  vain  and 
worthless.  And  they  have  been  followed  by 
later  and  more  frivolous  minds  who  ask  us, 
on  the  same  grounds,  to  regard  the  world 
as  a  comedy,  if  not  a  farce.  But  that  is  not 
the  deliberate  finding  of  the  human  soul. 
It  has  everywhere  felt  that  transitoriness,  the 
universal  flux  and  movement  of  things  to  an  end, 
is,  above  all  things,  a  spiritual  appeal.  That 
has  been  at  the  basis  of  every  religion.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  prominent  features  of  Christianity. 

The  way  in  which  this  idea  has  possessed 
men  has  been  at  times  singular ;  one  might 
almost  say  unwholesome.    At  the  beginning 


306  The  Eternal  Religion* 

of  the  Gospel,  and  for  a  long  time  on  in  the 
history  of  the  Church,  we  find  a  doctrine  of 
endings,  of  last  things,  which  filled  the  minds 
of  believers  to  an  extent  which  we  can  now 
hardly  realise*  Men  looked,  in  their  own 
generation,  for  a  final  consummation  of  things 
in  which  the  world  should  be  burned  up  and 
men's  destiny  sealed.  The  warning  note  of 
the  Apocalypse,  "  Behold,  I  come  quickly," 
was  the  Church's  watchword.  It  is  pathetic 
to  see  the  insistence  with  which  the  ablest 
of  her  teachers  discovered,  in  the  circumstances 
of  each  succeeding  century,  the  portents  of  the 
impending  catastrophe.  In  the  year  1000 
A.D.  the  whole  Catholic  world  was  mad  with 
excitement  over  warnings  of  the  coming  event ; 
and  our  own  day  has  not  wanted  for  prophets 
who  have  flourished  exceedingly  on  similar 
predictions*  The  methods,  indeed,  of  some  of 
these  last  suggest  irresistibly  the  **  slim " 
procedure  of  certain  Moslem  ulemas  of  the  last 
century  in  Egypt  who,  when  they  had  nearly 
frightened  their  followers  to  death  with  an 
announcement  of  the  approaching  end  of  the 
world,  reaped  a  harvest  of  honours  and 
rewards  by  announcing  later,  after  the  date 
had  passed  and  nothing  had  happened,  that 
the  Almighty,  having  regard  to  their  prayers, 
had  changed  His  mind. 

It  is  evident  that  a  mistake  lurked  in  the 
doctrine  of  last  things  as  here  conceived,  a 


Last  Things.  307 


mistake  of  large  proportions,  whose  elements 
lay  scattered  over  many  different  departments 
of  thinking.  There  was  error  about  the  actual 
cosmical  conditions,  about  the  relations  of 
time  and  eternity,  about  what  really  is  meant 
by  an  "  end."  We  may  say,  indeed,  with  the 
learned  author  of  "  Exploratio  Evangelica," 
that,  as  to  this  portion  at  least  of  the  early 
creed,  "  Undeveloped  science,  imperfect  philo- 
sophy, perverted  notions  of  history,  all  pre- 
sided over  its  formation."  It  was  a  belief 
that,  in  its  intenser  forms,  militated  seriously 
against  morality  and  human  progress,  inducing 
in  some  hysterical  excitements,  in  others 
unmanly  terrors,  and  calHng  men  off  from  the 
calm  pursuit  of  their  daily  duty. 

But  if  this  doctrine  of  last  things  was  all  a 
mistake,  how  can  we  speak  of  its  religious 
value  ?  To  begin  with,  it  was  not  all  a 
mistake.  What  we  now  recognise  in  that 
early  view  is  one  of  those  Divine  ideas  which 
have  been  the  great  educators  of  the  human 
race,  but  whose  history,  as  Hegel  somewhere 
says,  is  that  of  successive  forms  which  are 
successively  transcended.  The  belief  in  an 
approaching  catastrophic  end,  as  cherished 
by  the  first  disciples,  was,  to  use  Joubert's 
daring  phrase,  one  of  those  "  illusions  that 
are  sent  from  heaven."  The  feeling  of  a  great 
approaching  finality  which  at  that  time  bit 
so  deeply  into  the  human  spirit  was  a  necessary 


308  The  Eternal  Religion. 

factor  in  a  certain  stage  of  the  world's  inward 
development.  It  welded  men  into  a  religious 
cohesion  strong  enough  to  withstand  the 
tremendous  onset  of  persecution,  and  gave 
the  Church  a  driving  power  adequate  to  the 
re-making  of  the  world.  It  is  ideas  that 
govern  men,  but  the  ideas,  in  their  turn,  are 
governed  by  something  stronger  than  them- 
selves. They  are,  as  to  their  form,  subject 
to  the  law  of  change,  and  when  they  have 
done  their  work  they  pass  away. 

We  see  to-day  the  working  of  this  law  in 
the  idea  of  "  last  things "  as  held  by  the 
first  generations  of  believers,  when  compared 
with  the  later  view.  What  has  happened  to 
belief  on  this  subject  is  similar  to  the  history 
of  faith  in  the  Messiah.  The  Messianic  idea 
which  dominated  Israel  for  centuries  was,  in 
the  popular  mind,  associated  with  sensational 
and  materialistic  elements  at  the  uttermost 
remove  from  the  realisation  of  it  in  the  meek 
and  lowly  Jesus.  To  pass  from  that  first  form 
of  the  idea  to  this  later  was  a  trial  of  faith 
which  has  been  too  much  for  the  Jewish 
nation  even  to  this  day.  And,  so  far  as  ap- 
pearances go,  it  will  take  some  generations 
yet  before  the  materialistic  form  of  the  doctrine 
of  last  things  undergoes  a  similar  transforma- 
tion. 

That  earlier  notion,  as  we  have  said,  carried 
in  it  an  illusion  which  we^are  now  beginning 


Last  Things.  309 


to  grow  out  of.  The  people  in  whose  minds 
it  lived  imagined  they  knew  the  meaning  of 
the  word  "  end."  It  is  clear  that  they  did 
not.  They  imagined  a  finality  where  none 
such  existed.  Ends,  to  whatever  limits  our 
thoughts  pursue  them,  are,  we  discover, 
nothing  more  than  reconstructions,  new  be- 
ginnings. People  talk  of  a  universal  conflagra- 
tion which  is  to  finish  everything.  It  would 
finish  nothing.  The  materials  for  existence 
would  be  there  as  before,  every  jot  and  tittle, 
with  the  whole  leisure  of  eternity  before  them 
in  which  to  transact  their  business.  The  fever 
of  the  human  imagination,  especially  of  the 
theologic  imagination,  is  indeed  in  ludicrous 
contrast  with  the  majestic  calm  of  the  uni- 
verse, with  the  steadfast  infinity  that  is 
around  us. 

We  come,  then,  to  the  view  that  our  last 
things  are,  in  another  aspect,  always  first 
things,  that  our  ends  are  ever  beginnings. 
God  has  ordained  for  us  a  discipline  of  ends,  a 
discipline  that  is  severe  and  searching,  at  times 
awful  in  its  seeming  inexorableness.  But  that 
discipline,  while  it  cuts  so  sharp  and  deep,  is 
ever  the  sculptor  of  the  sacred.  It  is  because 
the  world  is  full  of  endings,  of  partings, 
of  seeming  finalities,  that  human  lives 
and  human  actions  gain  for  themselves  a 
mystic  preciousness.  They  are  taken  from 
us  that  they  may  be  understood  and  valued. 


310  The  Eternal  Religion. 

But  the  topic  will  not  stop  at  this  point. 
It  insists  on  a  further  word.  The  whole  trend 
of  things  which  we  have  been  here  trying 
to  indicate  presses  in  one  direction.  The 
movement  is  big  with  an  immense  suggestion. 
It  is  that  of  the  soul's  greater  future.  Life,  we 
have  seen,  is  full  of  closings  that  turn  out  to 
be  commencements.  Nature  loves  to  repeat 
herself.  She  stops  that  she  may  begin  over 
again.  But  her  repetition  is  never  quite  the 
same  thing.  She  is  a  musician  that,  having 
played  over  a  simple  air,  returns  upon  it  with 
incessant  new  and  lovely  variations.  And  so 
it  seems  to  be  not  merely  a  thought  that 
haunts  the  mind,  but  a  scientific  idea  grounded 
in  the  truth  of  things,  that  all  we  have  yet 
known  of  life — its  rapture  of  youth,  its  high 
endeavour,  its  delight  of  friendship,  its  tender- 
ness of  love,  its  aspiration  toward  the  Highest 
and  the  Holiest,  is  but  the  first  simple  strain 
that  in  our  experience  is  to  be  repeated  and 
repeated,  with  an  ever-growing  complex  of 
majestic  harmonies,  in  that  ampler  existence 
to  which  the  life  we  now  lead,  "  on  our  dull 
side  of  death,"  is  but  the  prelude. 


W.  SFBAiaHT  XSV  SOITS, 

FRIKTEBB, 

FSTTEB  LAKX,  LOSTDOK,  B.C. 


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